Only Fools Rush In
by True Blue Fool
Summary: Ten years after the fall of Voldemort, Severus' life has fallen into a routine, and he can almost believe that he can find happiness in normalcy. Until he can't. A sequel to Art of Potions, but can be read alone. *On Hiatus*
1. Author's Note: Please Read First

Here we are with the sequel to _Art of Potions_. Now, you don't need to read that to understand this, but there are some established relationships that you may find confusing otherwise. Like _AoP_, this is canon up until OotP, but disregards HBP and DH. _Art of Potions_ was set in an AU sixth year.

This story contains **SLASH**. I repeat, it contains **SLASH**. Don't like, please stop reading here. If you fail to listen to this warning, you have only yourself to blame.

This story has been written **out of order**. What does this mean? I had originally planned for _another_ fic to come between _Art of Potions_ and _Only Fools Rush In_, but I'm writing _Only Fools Rush In_ **first**. Why? Because I think this will be more exciting for the reader, à la George Lucas. It's also more exciting for me, as the writer. So what does this mean in terms of content? There will be things mentioned that have their role in the chronologically-second fic. Even those that have read _Art of Potions_ will **not** know about these things. Will you still be able to understand the story?** Yes**. I've tried to keep them as subtle as possible, but you have to keep in mind that you are coming to the story late. The characters themselves know that these things happened and it will influence them. I just didn't want to show Anakin becoming Darth Vader and ruining Luke's big revelation, you know what I'm saying?

So, if you have any questions, feel free to PM me or drop me a note on my livejournal (I'm truebluefool516). There will be things that I can't tell you, because I still plan on writing the other fic. But if you ever get confused or just plain don't understand what's happening, I will happily explain with as few spoilers as possible. This is new for me, too, so let's take this journey together, shall we?

Also, a warning: I'm writing this for Camp NaNoWriMo, so this will be woefully unedited. Feel free to point out any typos, because they will be there.

You can find the disclaimer and rating information at the beginning of the next chapter.

On to the story!  
>TBF<p> 


	2. Wise Men Say

If you haven't read the Author's Note in the previous "chapter" please do so now. I'll wait.

...

Done now? Good. Yours truly makes a little cameo in this chapter. See if you can't spot me.

**Title:** Only Fools Rush In  
><strong>Rating:<strong> M for Mature because of content in later chapters  
><strong>Warnings:<strong> Contains slash and lots and lots of angst. Sorry, it couldn't be helped. Also, minor character death, and *ahem* the _mature_ content in later chapters  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I do not own Harry Potter. The rights belong to JK Rowling and Warner Brothers and others. I make no money from writing this, nor is any copyright infringement intended.  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Ten years after the fall of Voldemort, Severus' life has fallen into a routine, and he can almost believe that he can find happiness in normalcy. Until he can't.

* * *

><p>Severus hated to admit it, but the best place to get magical plants and herbs was at Neville Longbottom's shop. Once a week, every week, always on a Wednesday, just before noon could find Severus at Longbottom's shop, simply named Greens. Longbottom closed the shop every day at noon so he could take lunch, but he had never turned Severus away and there was always a pot of tea and a plate of sandwiches, too much for just one, waiting. A distant part of Severus' mind wondered at the fact that he could sit to lunch with one of his most despised students, but the larger part didn't much care. Longbottom had grown into a tolerable adult, and- so long as they kept the conversation to such things as his plants and the weather- a satisfactory enough conversationalist. Somewhere in the years since Longbottom had been his student, he'd finally grown a spine, which made him far less annoying to Severus.<p>

Severus may have wondered where and when Longbottom had grown into this capable adult, except he didn't have to. That wasn't something he had to wonder about any of his former students, most especially Gryffindors and Slytherins. The war happened. Voldemort happened. His students, that he was sworn to protect, had been forced into a war that belonged to the old men like Albus and himself. Children didn't belong on the front lines.

So he ate lunch with Longbottom every Wednesday at noon, and if his younger self would have been shocked and appalled, well, maybe he'd grown up a little, too.

Every Wednesday, that was, except for this one. This Wednesday. Greens would probably be closed anyway, he rationalized. Most of the wizarding world was. It wasn't an official holiday, but everyone treated it like one. And Severus couldn't handle that.

The first year, he'd considered drinking himself into a stupor. He'd even gone out intending to find a Muggle liquor store and buying everything he could grab, until he'd seen it. The shop. He'd been told so many stories about that shop, but he'd never seen it before. And then it had been like his feet had a mind of their own, pointing very distinctly away from the liquor store and into a shop he'd never have otherwise considered entering.

Blue's Cupcakery. Brightly colored cakes stood in neat little lines in their little displays, decorated with a rainbow array of frostings. He'd nearly turned on his heel and walked out immediately after coming in, feeling out of place and out of sorts and in desperate need of a drink, when the young woman behind the counter called out to him.

"Coffee's fresh! And nice and strong," she said with an American accent and smile. "You look like you could use a cup. Sit, I'll get it for you." And she'd disappeared into the back. Severus had sat at one of the little bistro tables because, well, he could use a cup of coffee.

He'd come back to that place once a year, every year, for the past ten. It might have been odd, but this shop had it's own place in the history of this day, so while the rest of the wizarding world threw celebrations, Severus sat in a cupcake shop with a strong cup of coffee and maybe a scone. He'd stop by Greens tomorrow to make sure Longbottom hadn't sent the army after him.

When Severus entered the shop that same young woman greeted him with a cup of coffee and a cupcake. He eyed the confectionary warily. "It's a new flavor I thought you might want to try out. It's strawberry marbled with chocolate chili topped with a chai cream cheese frosting."

It didn't sound as though it would rot his teeth out, and there were no neon colors to be found, so Severus excepted it with a grunt of thanks and sat down at his regular table and celebrated the day in his own way.

* * *

><p>The next day, Severus stopped by Greens like he had planned. He went just before noon, and found a pot of tea and a plate of sandwiches just as if it was Wednesday. "I didn't figure you'd show yesterday," Longbottom said in lieu of greeting. "Did you…" Severus could almost see the words <em>get drunk<em> form in Longbottom's thoughts, "did you go out?" he asked instead, tactfully.

"I had coffee with someone I've known a long time." It wasn't strictly a lie; Severus _had_ known the woman at Blue's for a long time, and she _had _sat at the table with him, albeit to ask what he thought of the new cupcake flavor (Severus had to begrudgingly admit that it was rather good). "And you? Surely you had no shortage of party invitations yesterday."

Longbottom shrugged and changed the sign on the door from "open" to "closed" with a flick of his wand before pouring out their tea. "I'm not one for parties much. Besides, my Hachi vines started flowering, so I had a good excuse to stay home."

"Hachi vines?" Severus perked up at this information. "Those are notoriously difficult to raise. They take near-constant attention."

"I have a friend who watches the plants while I'm in the shop. The Hachi vines were a challenge, but he didn't mind too much." Longbottom dumped an alarming amount of sugar into his tea as he did every week and stirred contemplatively. "They should be ready in a few days professor, if you'd like a few cuttings."

Despite the fact that it had been a decade since Severus had last worked in any sort of educational setting, he couldn't shake Longbottom of title _professor_. "And how much would these clippings be?" Because of the difficulty in raising Hachi vines, they were normally prohibitively expensive. Enough so that Severus didn't usually bother with them. But if Longbottom named a good enough price…

"Why don't you stop by the nursery tomorrow and take a look at them, let me know what you think. We can work out a price there."

"You'll be there?" Severus raised an eyebrow. "I refuse to deal with someone dim enough to be working for you."

Longbottom grinned. "Of course. I've got a girl who watches the shop for me on Fridays. Would around 3 work for you?" Without waiting for Severus' confirmation, he scribbled the address down on a piece of parchment.

Severus took it from him, gingerly. "Your penmanship is still as deplorable as it ever was."

"I happen to like it. My gran always said it showed character."

"That is because this looks like calligraphy compared to Augusta Longbottom's handwriting. The word illegible is too kind a description."

Longbottom laughed. "Say, did you see this morning's Prophet? There was a nice piece on magical fungi in the rainforest…"

* * *

><p>When Severus returned home, that bird was on his window sill once again. She came to visit him now and again. Severus imagined that she got lonely- there was no other reason for her to come visit him. Sometimes he wondered if she was being taken care of, or if she had just fled to the wild all those years ago. She was more than capable of taking care of herself; Severus knew that fact intimately.<p>

"You're in luck bird," Severus said to her. "I remembered to pick up your infernal treats while I was in Diagon Alley today." He almost hadn't. People still stared at him, some in awe, some in fear, most in disgust. It had been ten years; hadn't they forgotten him by now? But the Magical Pets Emporium was having a sale that he didn't want to miss. Besides, the streets were emptier than normal. Severus suspected that most were nursing hangovers from the night before.

The bird hooted softly in response and waited patiently as Severus dug for the box of owl treats in the bag full of the shopping he'd done that day. She was old now, no longer nipping at his ear impatiently waiting for her treat. Severus almost missed it.

"Here you are." She hooted her thanks and took the treat delicately from his fingers.

Severus took his things downstairs to his basement that doubled as his workroom. He knew from experience that the bird would follow him down and watch him for the rest of the day, an unobtrusive, snowy presence in the corner of his eye, until he sat down to dinner. Then she would steal a few choice bits from his plate and fly off, back to wherever it was she spent her time when she wasn't visiting him. Occasionally, he'd ask her to carry a package or letter for him, but that was rare. He had no one he wished to write these days, and St. Mungo's sent over their own owls when their orders were due in.

It was all so very predictable. Severus had always been a creature of habit, so it was nice not to have Dumbledore knocking on his door with a request that no other person in their right mind would accept. It was nice not to have to deal with sniveling children and idiots trying to blow up his classroom. It was nice having his evenings to himself.

But best of all was that there was no one around to contradict him when he told bald-faced lies.

He'd had enough excitement to last the rest of his life, he told himself. Wasn't this what he had always wanted, what he had worked so hard for? A nice, quiet life, with no one to answer to and no one to be responsible for. Solitude so he could work on whatever he wanted. He'd only ever wanted to be left alone. And now he was alone.

Normalcy, predictably, a routine that he didn't have to interrupt for anyone. On most days, Severus could almost fool himself into believing that he was happy with his life as it was. But not today. Not after yesterday. Not after the day the wizarding world refused to let him forget. Severus stared blankly at the cauldron in front of him. What had happened to all of his plans? His work at St. Mungo's had only been meant to support his experiments. He was going to invent new, better potions, ones that weren't meant for killing or maiming or torture. He was going to become one of the top experts in the field, fending off multiple invitations to go to _this_ conference in Switzerland or speak at _that_ lecture in America. And no one would mind when he tore up their missives because geniuses were expected to be eccentric.

Instead, he spent his days brewing the same healing potions over and over again and never once attempting to do something else. The endless monotony- sorry, routine- was only broken by the arrival of a certain snowy owl and the occasional dinner with his godson. He stared at the empty cauldron in front of him and knew that he should be happy- knew that he _could_ be happy if he just tried. And he didn't want to think of why he wasn't.

Severus wanted to drink himself to sleep right there and then, but St. Mungo's was expecting another shipment, and Severus had planned to use today to make the Dreamless Sleep Draught. He didn't interrupt his routine for anyone. Not even himself.

* * *

><p>Severus ended up at Longbottom's half an hour before planned. His brewing had reached a good stopping point and he didn't want to stay inside the house without anything to do. Longbottom had said he had a friend watching the plants full-time so there should be someone there to let Severus in, even if Longbottom was out. He wondered if this friend was someone he had taught- Severus couldn't imagine any of Longbottom's Gryffindor dorm mates being satisfied with just sitting around watching plants all day, even if they were desperate enough for a job.<p>

There was no bell or anything to ring when Severus got to the gate. He considered sending his patronus to find whoever was there when a soft hoot made him look up.

"So this is where you spend your days, eh bird?" Severus said to the all-too-familiar owl. He wasn't surprised. Longbottom seemed to have developed a habit of taking in strays. Severus himself was a prime example of that- a fact that once would have annoyed him. "Well then, make yourself useful and find someone to let me in. I have an appointment with the proprietor."

The bird gave him a long look that Severus couldn't interpret before giving another soft hoot and winging off. Severus didn't have long to wait before a man that looked vaguely familiar arrived to let him in. "Hullo professor," the dark-skinned man greeted him with a grin. If the man had been one of Severus' students, he hadn't left an impression. Severus couldn't place him at all.

The man seemed to understand this. "Dean Thomas," he said, holding out his hand as though they were being introduced for the first time. "I was in Gryffindor in Nev's year."

"Mr. Thomas. Of course," Severus said, although having a name to put to the face didn't help him remember at all. They shook hands briefly.

"Nev mentioned you were stopping by, but I didn't that would be until later."

"I am earlier than originally planned. If that's a problem, I can come back later." Not that Severus knew where he'd spend the extra half hour. Maybe in a Muggle bar where no one recognized him, and he could nurse a glass of good, smooth bourbon in peace.

"No, no. It's fine," Thomas said, but he looked uncertain. "It's just, Neville's not in at them moment, and I actually have to leave in a bit. But if you'd rather wait, I can show you to Nev's office…"

No, Severus didn't want to wait. He wanted that glass of bourbon. But he'd promised that he'd try to cut back on his drinking. "That would be sufficient, thank you Mr. Thomas."

Thomas hesitated a moment as though he wanted to say something further, but he seemed to think better of it. Instead, they walked together in silence the short distance to Longbottom's little office. It was in a larger building that looked like a house. Severus wondered if Longbottom lived there, or if it perhaps belonged to Thomas as the caretaker. He didn't ask.

There was a large desk and some comfortable looking chairs in the office, but not much else. "Can I get you something before I leave, professor?" Thomas asked, straightening some of the papers scattered across the desk. "Tea, or maybe some biscuits? Or something to read? I think Nev's got some plant magazines around here somewhere," he added, flipping through the papers to look.

"I will be fine, Mr. Thomas. I'm sure that I can find ample ways to amuse myself in your absence."

Thomas stopped and put the papers he was rifling through back onto the desk, probably woefully out of order. "So long as you're sure…"

"Quite sure, thank you."

"Right, well, I should be off, then." He shook Severus' hand once again. "It was good seeing you again, professor." Thomas left, but wasn't out of Severus' sight more than half of a second before he stuck his head back in the room. "Oh, and it's best if you stay in here until Neville comes back. Never know what might bite you out there, you know?"

Severus wondered if he should be touched at the man's concern. Most of his former Gryffindor students would hold a celebration should he perish at the roots of Longbottom's exotic plants. "I assure you, I have no intention of getting eaten by a rogue plant."

"Right." Thomas grinned. "I'm really leaving this time, I promise."

"Good-bye, Mr. Thomas."

Longbottom showed up not ten minutes later, barely giving Severus time to be bored. "I thought you might be early, professor," he greeted Severus, a good-natured smile on his round face, "but I didn't think you'd be this early."

"I had time on my hands. I do apologize if it was an inconvenience."

"Oh no, of course not." Longbottom waved his hand dismissively. "I'm just sorry I kept you waiting. Shall we head down to the greenhouse?"

"I must admit, I was a little surprised to see Thomas as your caretaker," Severus commented as they walked through the nursery. Although he couldn't say that he remembered the man, it had been immediately clear to him that Thomas was emphatically _not_ the type that would be satisfied watching plants for a living.

"Dean? Oh no, he'd go bonkers sitting around here all day. He does the illustrations for the Quibbler- you know the ones. The 'artistic interpretations' of anything they can't get pictures of."

"That would be everything, then."

Longbottom laughed. "Dean stops by from time to time to visit. Mr. Lovegood is pretty lax about when he works so long as he puts a full day in."

"So he was visiting." That seemed odd. "While you were out."

"Have you any plans yet for the Hachi vines?" Longbottom asked in an utterly transparent attempt to change the subject.

Fifteen years ago, he'd have called Longbottom on it and terrorized him until he got the truth. Ten years ago, he'd have thought it suspicious and fished for more information. Today, all he said was, "I'd have to see the quality of the vine before I made any sort of decision." A small part of Severus knew that he was being a coward. The larger part of him couldn't seem to care. Secrets were no longer his stock and trade, and he was better off leaving them be.

Out of the corner of his eye, Severus could have sworn he saw someone moving through the plants, but when he turned his head to look, no one was there.

"Professor? Is something wrong?"

Severus tried to shake the feeling that he was being watched. "No. It was just the wind."

* * *

><p>Sometimes, Severus' routine did get interrupted by the man he had the dubious honor of calling his godson. This happened to be one of those days. Generally, these interruptions were minor enough, typically in the form of an owl carrying an invitation to dinner. Today, however, the interruption was not so minor.<p>

"You do realize that I am well within my legal rights to hex you for breaking and entering," Severus stated mildly as he walked into his kitchen to check on the presence his personal wards had alerted him to.

"Entering, I may be guilty of, but there was absolutely no breaking involved," the blond man said without turning from his task of rummaging through Severus' cold pantry. "Besides, if you had wanted to hex me, we wouldn't be having this conversation."

"What are you doing here, Draco?"

"Wishing I had stopped at the store before I came here. Do you live on jam and toast?"

"I somehow doubt you came to discuss the state of my larder," Severus said dryly. "Either tell me what it is that you want or I will seriously reconsider hexing you."

Draco turned to face him. The young Malfoy heir had grown into all the promises of beauty he'd shown as a child. His pointed face had lost some of its delicacy with age, leaving him with a much more masculine appearance. He'd grown to the point where he was nearly as tall as Severus, and he kept his white-blond hair consistently close-cropped. Severus often wondered if Draco did this on purpose to differentiate himself from the father he looked too much alike and who had died a villain. "I took the day off of work. I thought we might spend it together."

"Then you'd best make other plans. I'm busy, Draco."

"Oh, don't give me that, Severus," Draco said with a frown, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "We both know that whatever potion you're brewing for St. Mungo's can wait until tomorrow." Draco's expression softened a bit, and he ran a hand through his hair. "Look, I worry about you, okay? You're going to waste doing this. At least at Hogwarts, you had to think, if only of new and creative ways to give detention." Draco grinned, trying to include Severus in the joke, but it fell flat. "I know you're mourning. I understand that, but it's been ten years. You deserve to live your life. That's what he would want you to do."

"He's dead. He doesn't want anything anymore." The was a bitter taste in Severus' mouth. He got a glass of water to wash it away.

"No one knows that for sure," Draco said, a little too quickly.

No, no one did know for sure what had happened that day ten years ago, not even Severus and he had been there. All they knew was that the Dark Lord had been killed and that their savior had disappeared. All Severus knew was that terrible wound and all of that blood and the lonely bird that sometimes visited his window sill. It was enough proof for him, especially since sometimes it was harder to imagine that he might still be alive.

The water wasn't doing anything. Perhaps something stronger would do the trick. Severus poured himself and Draco a glass of bourbon each. "I appreciated your concern Draco, but I'm…" _happy_, he meant to say. _Satisfied. Living the life I've always wanted._ "…fine. I'm fine." The bourbon helped, but not by much. Severus had a feeling he'd need a lot more of it.

Draco frowned at the bourbon and didn't touch his glass. "You need to get out of this house, Severus. Interact with other human beings. _Besides_ myself and Longbottom," he added as though sensing Severus' retort.

Now it was Severus' turn to frown. "If I find that you've been following me, I will not be pleased," he warned.

"Neville wrote _me_. He's been worried, too."

Severus remembered the days when he had been the thing Longbottom feared most with nostalgia. He poured himself more bourbon. "_Both_ of your concerns are well-intentioned, but misplaced."

Draco said nothing in reply but looked pointedly at the newly-full glass of bourbon in Severus' hand. Severus sighed and put the glass back on the table without drinking. "What is it that I can do to ease your mind so that you'll let me be?"

"Come out with me today. Come over for dinner tomorrow and save me from the Weasley horde that will descend upon my house when Charlie gets home. And it wouldn't hurt if you owled that Alcander fellow."

Severus quirked an eyebrow. "Is that all, my Lord Malfoy?"

"You could cut back on the drinking like you promised."

He pinched the bridge of his nose feeling a headache starting. He didn't want to have this fight again, especially when Severus _had_ done exactly as promised. "Fine," he said shortly. "I will acquiesce to your demands only if you promise me that in the future, you will remember that I am an _adult_ and am perfectly capable of conducting my life as I see fit."

"Will you owl Alcander?"

"Yes, Draco. I will send him an owl."

"Good." Draco smiled brightly. "Then come along, there's lots for us to do today. I thought I'd make Charlie's favorites tomorrow, but I don't know where to get most of the ingredients. Maybe you will…"

Severus realized that Draco hadn't promised, but that was all right. He never did.

* * *

><p><strong>Word Count:<strong> 3,929

I have actually made those cupcakes and they are yumtastic. I bribed my way into the Misfits Cabin using that recipe.**  
><strong>


	3. But it's make believe, it's all pretend

Thanks to the always lovely **Ellaurora**, **Rori Potter**, and **passionate4pens94** for their reviews. I'm glad to see that I haven't completely through people for a loop with my out-of-order story-telling.

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><p>The next time the bird came to visit at Severus' window sill, she actually had a letter tied to her leg. "On official business this time? Or have you gone to the wrong person once again?" As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Severus wished he hadn't said it. The memory hit him with an almost physical blow, and for a moment, Severus found it hard to breathe. The snowy owl watched him with large eyes and Severus felt even worse. Surely she didn't enjoy the reminder anymore than he did. He gave her an extra treat as he untied the letter from her leg.<p>

It was addressed to him, of course. There was no one else for it to be addressed to.

_Professor Snape,_

_The Hachi vines are ready to be cut today. I know that they're at their most potent when fresh, so if you'd like to stop by the nursery tonight after 5, you can have them straight off the stalk._

_Neville Longbottom_

It was really a wonder that Longbottom was such a dud at Potions when he knew so much about the ingredients themselves. More potent, indeed. That was like saying the Cruciatus Curse was more potent than a Stinging Hex. And Severus had only ever been able to get his hands on the dried stuff before now. He should start on the potions right away so that he could add the Hachi vines immediately.

The bird hooted at him. Severus looked back down at the letter. Longbottom didn't seem to require a response, and Severus hadn't the time to waste if the potions were to be ready by five. "Stay or leave, bird. I haven't anything for you to bring back."

She hooted once more before launching off of the sill to settle on Severus' shoulder. "Don't think that you'll be able to roost there while I'm working, bird," he warned her, setting off for his basement. She nipped his ear in response.

Severus arrived at Longbottom's nursery promptly at five o'clock, the bird on his shoulder, to find the gate open. There was a note tacked there as well. _Professor,_ it read. _Knowing that you're probably early, there are refreshments in my office. Feel free to make yourself at home. NL_

Predictable. He was so damn predictable these days. Anyone who knew him now might not believe he was once a double agent, Dumbledore's one spy in Voldemort's camp. But he wasn't a spy anymore, not ever again. He was just an old man, set in his ways. And that was the way he'd wanted it, dammit.

Severus headed down to the house-like building that contained Longbottom's office and tried to appreciate his settings. Stop and smell the roses, the muggles were always saying. Then, of course, there was the lesser-known wizarding variation: Stop and smell the flutterby bush. It was all a bunch of hogwash. Yes, roses and flutterby bushes smelled pleasant enough, but not so much so that Severus felt the need to make time to sniff them.

The bird nipped Severus' ear in what he presumed was a goodbye before flying off to whatever roost Longbottom had set up for her. Severus didn't mind- she wasn't a small bird, after all. He did mind, however, when she came back and bit him harder, flying off before he could hex her.

"What in the devil do you want, bird?" Severus asked, rubbing his ear. She was in a tree not far from him. She hooted, and once she was sure she had his attention, she flew off in the direction of the greenhouse. Severus followed her, muttering about spoiled fowl and chicken stew.

She was waiting for him at the door to the greenhouse, and looked at it pointedly. Severus thought briefly of leaving her there and heading back to Longbottom's office as planned, but thought she might draw blood if she felt the need to get his attention once more. So he opened the door, the humidity hitting him like a solid wall, and she flew in ahead of him. "Be my guest," Severus muttered, following her in. He lost sight of her once inside, but he figured his best bet was to head towards the Hachi vines. Longbottom's employee would likely be there and could explain why the bird was so anxious to get Severus inside.

"Hedwig? H-how did you get in here?"

Severus' heart stopped. He couldn't breathe. That voice. _That voice_. He dreamt of that voice, only nightmares, always nightmares. Nightmares sometimes because it was so terrible waking up. It shouldn't be possible. It _couldn't_ be possible. He'd go, he'd see. That voice wasn't what he thought it was. It was because of the bird. He was confused. It just wasn't possible.

"Neville? You're h-home early-" A figure emerged out from behind the foliage only to stop short when he spotted Severus.

Harry Potter was standing in front of him. He turned his head away quickly, but not before Severus saw. The entire right side of his face had been completely ruined, a mass of terrible scars, starting at his hairline and disappearing below the collar of his shirt. Severus knew without looking that the scars probably covered not just his face, but the entire right side of his body. Severus had been there; he'd seen the wound that he didn't think anyone could survive, even as he had rushed Harry to Dumbledore, praying to every god that would listen that Harry would somehow pull through. It seems his prayers had been answered. But why hadn't he known?

Severus realized that he was staring and averted his eyes, even as Harry reached up to let his hair (long, far too long) out of its tail and fall over his face. "You sh-sh-sh-shouldn't b-be h-h-here," he stuttered.

Severus licked his lips. His mouth was dry, much too dry. He didn't know if he could get any words out. "The bird," he managed. "She wanted me to… You've been here all this time?" Here. So damn close. Three steps away from him for all these years. _Have you really been right under my nose this entire time?_ _Were you watching me from the bushes when I was last here, Harry?_

"Neville n-n-needed someone to w-w-watch the plants. And I… there w-w-was no reason n-not to." Harry's face was still turned away from him.

No reason. Severus felt as though he'd been punched in the gut. _Did you never think to come and find me, Harry?_ _A letter was all I needed. It's not as though your owl didn't know where I was. Don't I deserve that much?_ As though she had read his thoughts, the bird flew down from the greenhouse rafters and settled once more onto Severus' shoulder with a reassuring hoot. Harry turned his head briefly in her direction, but his hair was obscuring his face and Severus couldn't read his expression.

The bird was solid, warm and very, very real sitting on Severus' shoulder. This wasn't a dream. "Everyone thinks you're dead." Then, softer. "I thought you were dead."

"It's b-b-b-better that w-way."

Better. "There's something I've forgotten." Severus needed to get out of there. The air in there was much too heavy. "A potion. I forgot to put on the Stasis Charm." It was suffocating him. "I need to get to it before it's ruined. Do relay my apologies to Longbottom, will you?"

Severus left before Harry could reply. He just couldn't fucking breathe.

* * *

><p>The owl came back to him every day for a week. Though Severus never refused the bird itself (was she the only one in this whole damn world that was willing to tell him the truth?) he ripped up any letter she happened to be carrying without looking at it. He didn't go to Greens on Wednesday, or indeed any day that week, ordering by post instead from their main competitors. He needn't have bothered, however; he wasn't brewing. He instead spent the days drinking himself into oblivion, eating only because otherwise the bird brought him dead mice.<p>

The week ended and Severus fully expected the next to go the same way. He woke once again to the bird's hoot clamoring in his brain and reached blearily for the glass at his bedside table. This would have once contained hangover potion, but these days it generally held something that worked much better- bourbon. He downed the glass without looking at it, and then frowned as he waited for the burn that never came.

"It's water, Severus," a disapproving voice said from the other side of the room. "And trust me, that's all you're going to be drinking for a good long while."

"I am not in the mood for this, Draco," Severus growled, feeling for his wand on the night table.

"Oh, don't I know that. A hangover after seven full days of binge drinking. That's going to be a killer."

Severus might have killed his godson then, but he couldn't seem to find his wand. Maybe it had rolled under the bed…? Ooh, bending over was _not_ a good idea.

Draco sighed and handed him another glass. "Normally, I'd leave you to your agony as punishment, but I think we need to have a rational conversation. I need you functioning properly for that."

Severus sniffed at the glass. Hangover potion. He'd have preferred his bourbon, but he knew he wouldn't get any until Draco left. He drank it.

"I've brought you some take-away as well. Nice and greasy. It's down in the kitchen." Now that Severus' eyes were functioning properly, he could make out the blond's face and saw Draco was frowning. He'd never frowned so much as a child. He'd get wrinkles if he kept this up. "You have been eating, haven't you?"

The bird hooted from her perch on Severus' window sill, as though in answer. Severus grunted. "It was either that or be force-fed vermin."

If the statement confused Draco, he didn't say, but the furrows in his brow did smooth out some. "Right. Go downstairs and eat, and then we'll talk."

Severus briefly considered protesting that he wasn't a child and didn't need to be ordered around, but he thought better of it. The sooner he did what Draco said, the sooner Draco would leave, and the sooner Severus could get back to his bourbon.

The bird followed him downstairs and perched on the table as Severus ate, snatching up bits of food from his plate. Severus couldn't even say what it was that Draco had brought him, but it was greasy as promised and it helped with the nausea that the hangover potion hadn't quite got rid of.

Draco came down to join them when Severus was nearly finished. He pushed his plate over to the bird who happily finished the remainders, and looked at his godson. "You knew, didn't you." It wasn't a question.

"For the record, I've wanted to tell you every damn day." Draco sat across from him, raking his fingers through his white-blond hair. "But I swore I wouldn't."

"How long?"

"Eight years. He was in hiding the first two years after the war. Only Dumbledore knew where he was. When Dumbledore died, he came to me."

Severus stood to get coffee from the fresh pot Draco must have put on this morning. He figured if he gave his hands something to do, they'd stop shaking. That old bastard had _known_. And he'd let Severus believe Harry was dead. "Why? Why didn't he want me to know?" Severus was gripping the mug too hard; he was afraid it might shatter in his hands. He put it in front of Draco as though that was what he had meant to do all along and got himself another mug.

"I don't know, Severus. He refused to say." Draco took his mug in his hands, but didn't drink. "I _tried_ to get you interested in looking for him, but every time I brought him up, you just started drinking again. I _hated_ watching what it was doing to you, but there was nothing I could do."

Something occurred to Severus. "And you tried to get me to write Alcander because…"

"Missing person, private investigator. You can see where I was going with that."

Was he really so much of an idiot? He couldn't see what was right in front of him, what his godson had been trying to tell him all of these years. Had he really been that blind? Merlin, he'd been so selfish. This had been eating away at Draco for eight years and all he could think about was his own grief. The bird sidled over to him and nipped at his fingers affectionately.

Draco was watching the bird intently. "So what are you going to do now?"

"How do you mean?"

"About Harry." He leaned forward, the mug still in his hands. "You know now, so what are you going to do?"

"Nothing." Severus pulled his hands away from the bird and dumped his coffee in the sink, even though it remained untouched. He was still nauseous, it seemed. "He has made it clear that he doesn't wish to see me. I can at least respect his wishes."

Draco's expression made it clear that he didn't agree with that sentiment. Neither did the bird's mournful hoot. But if Harry had wanted him, he'd had plenty of time to tell him so. Severus didn't need it shoved in his face once more. "At least tell me that you'll stop ignoring Neville. He's been driving me mad, nattering on about some sort of vine or other."

The Hachi vines. Severus had forgotten all about them, and the potions still under a stasis charm in his basement. "I'll stop by Greens this week." Although he wouldn't get the Hachi vines. He didn't really need them, after all. And he didn't think he could stand to look at them now.

When Severus fell asleep that night- the first time in days without the aid of alcohol- he dreamt of screams and blood and gunshots.

* * *

><p><strong>Word Count:<strong> 6,281

You didn't really think I killed off Harry, did you?**  
><strong>


	4. The stars don't seem to guide me

Thanks to **Sora Kohaku**, **Ellaurora**, **Rori Potter**, and **lette2001** for your reviews.

If you like Paramore, my friend Vanessa posted an awesome cover of Monster on youtube. Check it out: she's VaNeNe1313. And if you like Suspyre, the gutairist is playing as well.

* * *

><p>It was surprisingly easy to fall back into his routine. Greens on Wednesday, brewing for St. Mungo's, and the occasional dinner with Draco and his sometimes-spouse, Charlie Weasley (Lucius must be rolling over in his grave- Severus took perverse pleasure in the thought). For a life-changing revelation, it hadn't changed his life all that much. The only thing Severus noticed that had really changed was that the bird had stopped visiting him. He found that he missed her.<p>

Severus thought maybe he was just lonely. He tried getting back in touch with Alcander, as Draco had suggested, but while Alcander was always pleasant company, he didn't ease the ache in Severus' soul. He considered getting himself an owl. He nixed that idea when he learned that most domesticated owls were neither as smart nor as independent as she was- they needed a lot more attention than she ever had. So, Severus decided to get himself a cat.

He first went to the Magical Pets Emporium, but none of the cats there suited his tastes. He'd been hoping for a cat like Granger's: something unlovely and unwanted that he could feel a kinship to. But all of the cats there were pedigreed and well groomed, lovely and completely different from what Severus wanted.

Severus decided to go to a Muggle pound. He asked to see the cat that had been there the longest, the one that they couldn't find a home for. "He's a bit mean," the attendant warned him.

"That's all right," Severus said. "So am I."

The cat was scrawny, with dull gray fur that stuck out in puffs all over, and bulgy, misshapen eyes. He was perfect.

Severus named his new companion Nemo, Latin for nobody. He was rather mean, as advertised, but purred in a loud, undignified manner when he consented to be scratched. Nemo was exactly what he had needed, so why was it that Severus still found himself looking for a snowy shape perched on his window sill? Not that Nemo would stand for such a visitor; the cat arched his back and hissed at the St. Mungo's owls every time they flew in.

The next time Severus went to Greens, he asked Longbottom about catnip plants. He figured Nemo might enjoy it if he planted one in the garden.

"I've never grown one myself, but it shouldn't be any trouble for you," Longbottom replied, serving them both tea. "They're supposed to be pretty hardy plants, easy to care for. I'll have to ask…" he trailed off, averting his eyes.

"You can feel free to say the name, Longbottom. I can assure you that the mere mention will not drive me to another week of binge drinking."

"Harry keeps a few for Hermione. Crookshanks goes mad for the stuff." He tried to smile, but didn't quite manage. It looked more like a grimace. "Look, why don't you stop by the nursery and ask him yourself?"

"Absolutely not."

Longbottom sighed, rubbing his face. "I don't understand why everyone but the two of you can tell that you need to talk."

"He let me believe that he was dead for the past ten years. You can understand why I'm a bit sore."

"Of course I understand that you're upset, professor. Who wouldn't be? But you have to understand that he's frightened."

"Afraid? Of what?" Of Severus? Had he been demoted from the person Harry trusted most in the world to the one he feared?

"Of what you'll think of him. You saw him. He's not… he's not the same." Longbottom picked absently at his sandwich. "He doesn't stay at the nursery because he loves plants, you know?"

Did Harry really think that Severus would mind the scars? He'd never cared about them before, why would a few more bother him? Or perhaps it was the stuttering. That would take a little getting used to, Severus had to admit, but it was also probably better when he _wasn't_ being confronted with a long-lost lover. He sighed. "All right. If that is your advice on the subject, then I will owl Potter for tips on how to grow my catnip plant."

Longbottom smiled, for real this time, his entire face lighting up. "Thank you, professor! Oh, I just know that it will do both of you a world of good."

"I promise nothing, Longbottom," Severus warned. "I am _only_ writing him about the catnip plant."

Longbottom sobered. "Of course. I understand," he said solemnly, but the smile was still visible in his eyes. Severus couldn't help feeling like he had just been played. And by a _Gryffindor_.

* * *

><p>The next morning, Severus woke to hissing. St. Mungo's must have sent over another owl, and Nemo was not best pleased. Although, from the sound of it, this owl was made of sturdier stuff than the others. They usually squawked loudly the entire time they were there, leaving as soon as they possibly could. This one was making surprisingly little in the way of noise.<p>

"All right, all right. I'm coming," he muttered, swinging his legs over the side of the bed, putting on the slippers that Draco had bought for him one Christmas. Nemo continued to hiss. "Oh, shut it, you idiot feline. It's not going anywhere until its done what it came for." Nemo, predictably, didn't listen.

The owl in the window was ignoring Severus' possibly brain-damaged cat's attempts at intimidation and gave him a hoot in greeting. "I suppose Longbottom sent you to make sure I didn't forget," Severus said to her, opening the window to let her in, much to Nemo's displeasure. "Well, come on. You know by now where the treats are kept."

The snowy owl hooted at him once more, before swooping at Nemo. The cat freaked out and streaked out of the room. Pleased with herself, she flew out after him, hopefully down to the kitchen and not to chase the cat. Severus didn't want to have to find another pet.

Severus followed the dysfunctional animals down to the kitchen. The bird was sitting on the back of one of the chairs and was watching him expectantly. Nemo was no where to be found. Severus set on a pot of tea and fixed himself a basic breakfast, stopping only to feed the bird her expected treat. When he finished eating, he washed the dishes by hand, rather than with a spell, and dried them carefully. When he could stall no longer, he sat down to write his letter.

_Mr. Potter,_

_I have recently come into possession of a feline, and have considered placing a catnip plant in the garden for his enjoyment. Our shared acquaintance, Mr. Longbottom, has suggested that you have some expertise in the area of this particular plant and might have some suggestions as to how I might best go about doing this. I would be much obliged to you for sharing this information with me._

Severus paused. It was too stilted, too formal, as though he was writing to a stranger. But perhaps it was best to treat him as such; the Harry Severus had known would have never let Severus believe he was dead. Still, Severus felt the need to end the letter with something that acknowledged the fact that they had once known each other.

_I am pleased to see that you are well. If you are still utilizing sleeping potions, I would be happy to supply you._

_Severus Snape_

There. Harry could either read that as a reminder of what they had once had, or as a purely professional business deal. Severus sealed the letter before he could change his mind and handed it to the bird. She nipped his finger in what he took as an encouraging manner and flew off.

As soon as she was gone, Nemo crept meekly back into the kitchen. He jumped up onto Severus' lap and bumped his head against Severus' hand, apparently in need of reassurance. That was all right; Severus was, too.

The owl came back later that day, while Severus was in the basement, brewing. He honestly hadn't expected her back so soon, but maybe Harry hadn't had to agonize over what he wrote. What was surprising was that the letter was typed by what looked to be an old-fashioned muggle typewriter. But then Severus remembered that Harry had been right-handed. It must have been too difficult for him to hold a quill.

_Professor Snape,_

_You should double check to make sure your cat likes catnip before planting it. It's quite an aggressive plant and will probably take over your garden. The plant itself is easy enough to care for; plant it in full sunlight or a partially shaded area. It actually fairs better in poorer soil, with a high alkaline content, and doesn't need too much in the way of watering. Once a day would be fine. This is true of any variety._

_Although I've been prescribed sleeping potions, I don't like to take them. They make me too groggy, and I need my wits about me around some of Neville's plants. I do appreciate the offer._

_Your's,_

_Harry Potter_

Severus read the letter over and over again. He didn't know what he had expected, but it certainly wasn't this. No apologies, no explanations, nothing. Nothing but exactly what Severus had asked for.

The bird hooted at him. Right, the treats were in the kitchen. Severus headed back up the stairs, the owl following behind. Nemo, who had been watching them warily from the open door at the top of the stairs, scampered away at their approach. Severus fed the bird her treat, but she still refused to leave.

"You can go on home, bird. I've got what I needed."

She didn't listen. In fact, she followed Severus around for the rest of the day. While this had never bothered Severus in the past, this time the bird made sure that she was always in Severus' line of sight. A snowy owl was hard to miss at the best of times, but a snowy owl that wanted to be noticed was going to be. Besides, Severus' cat nearly had a heart attack every time he saw her. He didn't know how much more Nemo would be able to take.

"Fine," Severus snapped finally. "If you want me to write him back, I'll write him back."

Owls should not be allowed to look that smug.

_Mr. Potter,_

_I thought the whole purpose of catnip was that cats were enamored of it. Are you telling me now that this is not the case? I was also unaware that it came in more than one variety. Is there much difference?_

Severus looked up briefly at his personal stash of potions. He had enough. He could afford to send one back with the bird.

_The Healers at St. Mungo's do tend to be a bit heavy-handed with the strength of their potions. I have sent you a sleeping potion that I myself use from time to time, so I can attest to the fact that it should not leave you feeling drowsy. It is very similar to the one that you took while at school._

_I apologize for the lateness of your bird. She refused to leave until I wrote you a reply._

_Severus Snape_

"There, are you satisfied, you annoying fowl?" Severus growled, handing over the sealed letter and a little bottle of sleeping potion. "Don't think you can expect a treat the next time you come back. You've clearly been far too spoiled as it is."

The bird just preened before flying out the window.

_Professor Snape,_

_I'm sorry about Hedwig. She's not normally that pushy, and I didn't give her any instructions to be so._

_It's not uncommon for a cat to not like catnip. Hermione read these statistics once that said only about 20% of cats actually like catnip, and 50% don't care about it one way or another._

_The only difference in the varieties is mainly aesthetics. Also, some people use it for tea, so I suppose some taste better than others. I wouldn't know about that._

_Thank you for the sleeping potion. I slept better last night than I have in a long time, and you were right- I didn't feel groggy this morning. I don't suppose I could bother you for more? I'd be willing to pay, of course._

_Harry Potter_

Now came the hard part; did Severus ask for payment? He didn't need the money; St. Mungo's paid him well enough, and he didn't particularly want to ask Harry for money. But if he offered to give it for free, was that presuming too much familiarity?

Severus drummed his fingers against the wood of his kitchen table. He hated feeling like this, like some sort of love-sick witch afraid to put a foot wrong and lose the interest of her beau. Because he needn't worry about that. He'd lost Harry's interest ten years ago. He shouldn't have to agonize over every word and worry how they might be interpreted.

But then, he should also be able to ask Harry the questions that he really wanted to. Instead, he was being a coward, talking about catnip and sleeping potions. He was too afraid of what the answers might be.

So Severus quoted a price (low, very low) and sent it off with the owl, hating himself for it.

* * *

><p>As it turned out, Nemo didn't care much for catnip, and he told Longbottom as much the next time he went to Greens and was asked about his plant. Longbottom seemed disappointed. "So you've stopped writing Harry?"<p>

"Well, he's been ordering potions from me, so a certain amount of correspondence is necessary."

That seemed to appease Longbottom slightly. "It would be nice if you two were friendly again. I know that's what Draco wants."

_We were more than just friendly_, Severus thought, and for the first time he wondered how much Longbottom really knew. But he didn't ask, of course. He never asked anymore. Merlin, he'd become such a damn coward. "When exactly did you two become so friendly?" he asked instead. "You couldn't stand each other in school."

"You couldn't stand me in school either," Longbottom responded with a grin. "I guess circumstances just sort of pushed us together, first with Harry and then with you."

"Me?" As far as Severus knew, he'd never forced the two of them together.

"You have to admit, professor, you haven't been in the best shape, lately."

"So the two of you have been conspiring to get me into better, ah, shape?" Wonderful. It wasn't enough that Draco already treated him like a child, but now he was apparently unable to take care of himself without being looked after.

"There was no conspiring. We were just-"

"Worried. Yes, I've heard." Severus had suddenly lost his appetite. He stood. "I will see you next week."

"Look, I didn't mean-" Longbottom started, but Severus exited the shop before he could hear the rest of the sentence.

Severus couldn't have said himself where he intended on going until he was facing the storefront. Blue's. He entered the shop.

The same woman was behind the counter, and when she saw Severus, she covered her heart with her hands, dramatically. "Saints preserve me! Twice in one year? Is the world coming to an end?" She grinned and went back to wiping down the counter. "A man comes into my shop every year on the same day, it makes an impression, you know? So, coffee? Or did you come back for the cupcakes? Admit it, they were just that good."

But Severus wasn't there for the coffee or the baked goods. "There was a boy, ten years ago, he used to come in here. Do you remember him?"

The woman shrugged. "Sorry. I get a lot of kids in here. I can't guarantee anything, but maybe if you can describe him?"

"He wasn't a child. He was seventeen, short with black hair and green eyes."

The woman paused her cleaning, thoughtfully. "Glasses? Weird scar about here?" She tapped her right temple with a finger. Severus nodded. "Yeah, I- oh, lord, don't tell me that you're the boyfriend!" She smacked herself in the forehead with the heel of her palm. "You've been coming here for ten years and I _never_ realized that. I am such an idiot. I mean, he said you were older and you started coming here right after he stopped and… oh my god." She covered her mouth with a hand. "Is he dead? Is that why you come here on the same day every year? Are you like mourning the anniversary of his death? And here I am pestering you about frosting and-"

"He isn't dead," Severus interrupted before the woman could pass out. He'd never heard anyone talk so much without taking a single breath, and he was afraid he wouldn't be able to follow any more of her leaps of logic.

"Right." She took a deep breath. "So why are you asking?"

Why was he asking? Severus didn't know himself. "I was wondering if he'd… had a favorite cupcake."

The woman tapped her finger against her lips. "If I remember correctly, he liked the pecan pie cupcakes. Would you like to pick up a couple?"

"Yes," Severus said, although he had no idea what he would do with them. The woman looked at him expectantly. "Ah, yes. Four should be sufficient." Why he was getting four when he didn't even want one was a mystery.

"Four pecan pie cupcakes it is." She placed the cakes in a neat little bakery box that had the Blue's Cupcakery logo, and tied it with red and white string. "There you are. Anything else that I can get you?"

"No, thank you." He paid her and headed out the door.

"Say hi to Harry for me!" she called after him.

The bird was waiting for him when he got home. Harry must have needed more sleeping potion. However, it gave Severus an idea of what to do with the cupcakes.

_Mr. Potter,_

_The woman at Blue's Cupcakery led me to believe that these were a favorite of your's. She sends them along with her regards._

_Severus Snape_

He stuck the note under the red and white string on the box before putting it in the carrier containing Harry's potion order.

* * *

><p><strong>Word Count:<strong> 9,346

Nemo reminds me of my own cat (who also doesn't like catnip). And yes, I do really talk like that.

A quick word about the pecan pie cupcakes. We all know that Harry's favorite dessert is treacle tart. The recipe for treacle tart really reminds me of pecan pie without the pecans (and golden syrup instead of corn syrup, but if you check out bakingdom dot com, Darla substitutes molasses and corn syrup for the golden syrup (you really should check out the site; it's got great recipes and Darla is a Harry Potter nerd like the rest of us)), so what's the closest to treacle tart in a cupcake? Pecan pie cupcakes! Oh, and they do exist. The book Crazy About Cupcakes has a recipe that I am determined to try one day.

I have no idea if the British eat pecan pie, but since I'm starring as the cupcake shop owner, it's all cool.**  
><strong>


	5. It's not easy tonight

Phew. Week 2 and I'm already behind, or you would have gotten this 2 days sooner. And I start a new job on Monday. Yay!

Small note about Alcander for anyone who hasn't read _AoP_: He and Sev met in university, had a thing, remained friends. Alcander helped Sev and Harry out during _The Art of Potions_. He's a bit older than Severus and feels slightly protective.

And I have no idea where the name "Brankshaft" came from. My NaNoWriMo addled brain decided it was a good one.

Thanks to **Sora Kohaku**, **passionate4pens94**, **Ellaurora**, **Rori Potter**, and **lette2001** for the reviews.

* * *

><p>The knock at his door made Severus frown. Draco didn't knock. Alcander was on holiday in the Virgin Islands. There was no one else who would have the occasion to visit him. Perhaps it was Longbottom, or Minerva McGonagall come once again to beg him to take back his post at Hogwarts. Of all the things Severus had expected to find on his doorstep however, this was not one of them.<p>

"C-can I c-come in?" Harry asked, his long hair shielding his face.

To his credit, Severus only hesitated a moment before stepping aside. "Of course. May I offer you some tea? I've just put a pot on." It was all so bizarrely normal.

"If it's n-not any tr-tr-trouble."

"None at all. The kitchen is this way." Severus was proud of how even his voice was.

Nemo was lounging on the kitchen table and was less than pleased to be displaced. "So this is your c-cat," Harry said, looking at the animal who was yowling his displeasure at Severus. "I h-have to admit, I was a bit s-surprised when you s-said you had g-g-gotten one. I n-never imagined you a c-c-cat owner."

Severus tossed Nemo a bit of string. The cat immediately forgot what it was complaining about and pounced on it. He poured two cups of tea and put them on the table, along with milk and sugar. Of course, he remembered exactly how Harry had taken his tea ten years ago, but he didn't want to presume. People's tastes could change. "Neither did I, but now that I have it to spare, I've found the silence to be sometimes… deafening." It may have been clichéd, but it was true.

Harry stirred his tea- with his left hand, Severus noted. The right was covered with a glove. "S-so, did you ever plant the c-catnip?"

"No. I took your advice. Nemo didn't care for it." An awkward silence stretched between them. Nemo suddenly found Severus' ankles fascinating, and Severus scooped the cat up from the floor to save them from being attacked. Nemo gave a show of protest and snapped at Severus' fingers, but he ultimately settled down onto Severus' lap. "Was there something specific I could help you with?" Severus asked finally. Despite Nemo's loud purr, this was another silence he couldn't stand.

"The c-cupcakes. W-why did you s-send the c-cupcakes?"

Severus was taken aback. "They would have gone to waste, here."

"Is that the only r-reason?" Harry was watching him closely, his one good eye peering brightly through the curtain of his hair.

Severus scratched Nemo's cheek, the place he liked best. "What other reason would there be? I had the cakes, I knew you liked them, so I sent them to you."

"You c-could have given them to N-Neville or Dr-Draco."

"I don't know want it is you want to hear." Severus' hand paused and Nemo looked up at him as thought to inquire why he wasn't being petted. "Why don't you just tell me."

"I d-don't know." He scratched at the scars around his ruined eye. "Th-that they mean that you understand, that you f-f-forgive me."

Nemo bumped Severus' hand, demanding his pets. Severus resumed the motion, but that's exactly what it was. Just a motion. "But I don't understand. And how can I forgive you when you've not asked for it?"

Harry nodded to himself as though that was what he had expected to hear. "Th-thank you for the t-tea…professor. And th-the cup…cakes. I… appreciate the thought." He stood to leave.

"Harry." Severus caught his arm, his right arm. He could feel the ridges of the scars even through the fabric of the man's sleeve. "Just tell me why."

"I c-c-can't. I'm s-sorry." He slipped out of Severus' grip and was gone.

And Severus was left alone in his kitchen with only his cat for company. Despite the heat of the day and Nemo's body heat, Severus felt cold.

* * *

><p>"You need to <em>talk<em> to him," Draco said disapprovingly when Severus told him of the encounter. "And you can't protest now that he doesn't want to see you."

"You two just need to sit and talk about it," Longbottom said the next time Severus came to Greens. "You'll both feel the better for it."

"You need to stop _moping_, Sev," is what Alcander said as he brought their pints to the table. "You asked, he didn't answer. Dunno what else you're meant to do about it." He handed one to Severus. "And if you ask me, this Potter fellow is not worth any more of your time."

"He nearly died to save us all, Alcander."

"For which I expect I'll thank him, if I ever see him. Right before I punch him in the face." Severus expected that to be a joke, but Alcander's face was uncharacteristically serious. "'S not right what he did, and he could have saved you a lot of grief if he'd sent one stinking letter. Just because someone's a hero doesn't make them good people."

"True enough." Severus sipped his pint. "They gave me an Order of Merlin, after all."

"Come off it, Sev. You're the best man I know."

"You can't know very many people, then."

Alcander grinned, shaking his head. "And who the hell else would have had the balls to do what you did? Like it or not, you're a good guy. And a great catch. What d'you feel like tonight?" Alcander scanned the pub. "Not a bad turn-out."

"Alcander…"

"Go on, take your pick. I'll be your wingman."

"I'm in no mood for a one-night stand with some random stranger, thank you."

"So you're in the mood for a one-night stand with someone who isn't a stranger?" Alcander waggled his eyebrows suggestively. "They rent rooms here by the hour, you know."

Severus sighed. "Remind me of why I agreed to come here tonight?"

"Because you need to spend some time outside of that noggin of your's." Alcander reached over and rapped Severus gently on the head with his knuckles. It was an indignity Severus would not have suffered from anyone else. "Because you can't say no to me. And because spending all your nights at home alone with a cat is just unhealthy." Alcander downed a mighty gulp of his ale. "Also, drinking alone is just depressing."

"Ah. Of course." Severus had done far too much drinking by himself recently. And Alcander was right; he needed to stop moping. He was probably never going to get the answers he wanted. If he was ever to have the life that he had dreamed of, he'd have to put Harry out of his mind. And coming out tonight with Alcander was the start of that. Severus raised his glass in Alcander's direction. "Cheers."

Alcander clinked his glass again Severus'. "Cheers, Sev," he said. "Welcome back to the world."

* * *

><p>The summons from the Ministry was an unexpected, if not unfamiliar event. In the first few months after the fall of Voldemort, he'd been called in often to identify Death Eaters as well as who had been Imperiused. After that he'd gotten invitation after invitation to various functions and celebrations that as a recipient of the Order of Merlin, First Class, he was expected to attend, but he never did. Except for the memorial services. He'd gone to all of those (especially one for a man who quite certainly had <em>not<em> required it, but dwelling on that did not fit into his plan of putting it out of his mind).

But Severus hadn't gotten anything of the sort for a number of years. Until today. And this wasn't a party invitation, but an official summons signed with the official Ministerial seal. This was straight from that snot-nosed upstart's office. What was his name again? Thaddeus. Thaddeus Brankshaft. He'd taken the office last year when Shacklebolt had stepped down due to "personal reasons." Severus knew he wasn't the only who thought that smelt strongly of blackmail, but couldn't imagine what, exactly Brankshaft could have gotten on him. When he'd known Shacklebolt, the man had been as clean as they come. Brankshaft, however, had been Severus' classmate at Hogwarts and had always been a slick little thing, his nose into everyone's business, his finger in every pie. If ever there was a man born to politics, it was Thaddeus Brankshaft.

But whatever Severus thought of the man, he was in no position to ignore a summons from the Minister of Magic himself. He arrived at the Ministry at the appointed time and was led straight to the Minister's office only to be greeted by Thaddeus Brankshaft himself.

"Severus Snape!" Brankshaft shook Severus' hand vigorously as his assistant closed the office door with a quiet _snick_. "I'm so pleased that you were able to make it. You've been well, I hope?"

Brankshaft was a handsome man, with loosely curled auburn hair and bright blue eyes and chiseled features, and Severus had always thought that he'd been rather _too_ handsome to trust. Any number of his secrets had _stayed_ secret because of that instinct. "I didn't have much of a choice, Minister."

"Oh, no need to be so formal, Severus!" The Minister clapped him on the shoulder. Severus resisted the urge to shrug the hand off. "We were school friends, after all. Please, call me Thaddeus." Severus thought hell was more likely to freeze over. "Sit down, make yourself comfortable. Can I offer you something to drink? Coffee, tea, something stronger perhaps? It's five o'clock somewhere, am I right?" Brankshaft winked at him.

Severus gritted his teeth. "No, thank you. If I may inquire as to what this is about?" The sooner he found that out, the sooner he could get home to a nice long bath to wash off this feeling of sleaze.

"Sit, please, Severus." Brankshaft gestured to a chair in front of his desk and Severus sat because he had the feeling that Brankshaft wouldn't get to the point, else. "Are you sure I can't get you anything? No?" Rather than sit behind the desk, Brankshaft sat in the chair next to Severus, angling it so that they were facing each other. "Well, first off, I just wanted to congratulate you on that Order of Merlin. I could _not_ believe it; skinny little Severus Snape, a _war_ hero of all things. Fantastic, just fantastic. And you were a spy, is that right? A spy, right under You-Know-Who's nose. It's brilliant is what it is. A double agent, wasn't it? Or maybe it was triple agent? Quadruple?" Brankshaft let out a laugh that made Severus want to hit him. "I don't know how you kept it all straight, Severus, I really don't."

"I knew what I was fighting for." _And who_, a tiny part of his mind whispered, but he hushed it.

"Well, I could _not _have done it, that is for sure." _Yes, you could have_, Severus thought, _but you couldn't see the benefit to you, so you didn't_. "So, my sincerest thanks and congratulations to you on that."

"You do realize that you are ten years late on this," Severus commented dryly.

"Yes, well I have to confess that wasn't my original reason for asking you here," _Shocking, _Severus thought to himself, "but it really did need to be said. Once again, really well done."

"And the real reason for my being here would be…?"

Brankshaft leaned forward towards Severus. Severus would have leaned away from Brankshaft, but the back of his chair stopped him. "I've found a rather large gap in my predecessor's post-war investigations," he said in a stage whisper with an over-exaggerated air of confiding a dark secret.

Severus waited a beat, but it was clear that Brankshaft was waiting for him to ask. He bit back a sigh. "And what might that be?"

"_Harry Potter_." Severus' spine stiffened involuntarily before he forced himself to relax. "I know, I know, you probably thought he was dead. So did I, until I started looking through the old files. No body was ever found, and there were no witnesses on record." Severus silently thanked Shacklebolt for that. "But no one ever looked into it at all."

"It is possible that there was no body to be found," Severus pointed out. "There was a massive discharge of magic as Voldemort," Brankshaft shuddered at the name; Severus savored the moment, "died, and not only was Potter there, but they were linked." A part of Severus wondered why he was protecting Harry, but then he remembered the scarred, stuttering man sitting at his kitchen table. He couldn't help but feel Harry had earned his right to privacy. "Shacklebolt was a capable Auror before he was minister. If he didn't think that there was anything to look into, there probably isn't."

"And normally, I'd agree with you." _Ha_, Severus thought. "However, we've recently uncovered a faction of Death Eater sympathizers. If Harry Potter _is _still alive out there, he would be their number one target. A dead man can expect no help from us if he's attacked. If we were to find Mr. Potter, we'd be able to offer him our protection."

Severus searched Brankshaft's face for a moment, trying to figure out what the minister's angle was. How could finding Harry help him? "I don't see why you're telling me all of this."

"Don't you?" Brankshaft leaned back in his chair, rubbing his chin. "I thought it would be clear, Severus. You got inside You-Know-Who's inner circle. You were, for all intents and purposes, a Death Eater. The only one we let free. Failing Harry Potter, who do you think the number two target would be for these people be?"

"So you brought me here to warn me?" But Severus knew that wasn't the only reason, couldn't be the only reason.

"Well, that but I wanted to do something a bit more proactive, send a clear message to these Death Eater-wannabes that I will not tolerate any threats against my people. Surveillance is being set up at your residence and I would like to set you up with a protection detail."

"Absolutely not!" Severus was seething with anger at the _presumption_ of this idiot man. "I will not consent to be watched or followed by your goons."

Brankshaft was watching him calmly. "I'm just trying to protect you, Severus. It isn't like you have anything to hide, is there?"

_Ah_. "No, but I am a free citizen and have a right to my privacy."

Brankshaft heaved a heavy, put-upon sigh. "All right, Severus. I'm afraid that is your prerogative. I'll have the surveillance taken down immediately if you're sure that's what you want."

"It is." Severus stood. "If you'll excuse me, minister, I have things to do."

"Please, Severus." Brankshaft smiled, showing all of his teeth. "Call me Thaddeus."

Once Severus was absolutely sure he hadn't been followed out of the Ministry, he summoned his patronus. "Brankshaft's manufacturing Death Eaters, and I might be his number one suspect. My home is no longer safe. Meet me tonight at Malfoy Manor," he told it before sending it off to Alcander.

Although the last place he wanted to go was his house now that Brankshaft's goons had been all over it, there was one thing he had to pick up before going to Draco's. He had no way of telling how long it would be before he was able to go back home. Besides, Nemo would enjoy exploring the vast number of hallways and corridors at Malfoy Manor.

* * *

><p><strong>Word Count:<strong> 11,929

Didn't you know that cupcakes are the language of _looooovvvve_? Yes, Harry and Sev are absolutely _not_ cooperating, so I had to throw in some nefarious Ministry plots to move the story along. But worry not; the cupcakes started something churning in Harry's head. Cupcakes, man. They make the world go round.**  
><strong>


	6. But still I crave that sound

You guys need to realize how much I love you when I tell you that I've been writing this during my lunch breaks. Work's been crazy. There was a full-time girl who'd started at about the same time I did (last week), and they fired her on Friday and a new girl started on Monday, and they had me working full time (I guess to train her) so I've been completely wiped. But I always remember to keep my journal on me for when I have down time. So you should all thank me for being so considerate. :D

This chapter is dedicated to **passionate4pens94** who wanted there to be more Neville. ^_^ Much love to all my reviewers!

* * *

><p>"Why?" Charlie Weasley asked that night. He had been in with Draco, so including him in the discussion was unavoidable. He was with Draco, Severus, and Alcander in the sitting room. "Why would Brankshaft want to <em>create <em>Death Eaters? And why would he choose you as a scapegoat? You're a hero; everyone knows it. That picture of Kingsley giving you the Order of Merlin was all over the place."

"And don't you remember the outrage over that?" Draco told his lover. "Severus and Harry were the only ones that got an Order of Merlin, First Class. People were furious that Severus got the same class of medal as Harry. They all thought Harry should be in a class by himself. Hell, even Dumbledore got second class."

_Because Albus did nothing but meddle_, Severus thought, but kept it to himself. Weasleys had always been staunch Dumbledore supporters. No need to cause a row. "Brankshaft isn't stupid. Fear and conflict unites people, and if they see him as the one person capable of dealing with a new threat, then his position as Minister is safe for as long as he keeps up the illusion of that threat, and he'll be given free reign to deal with it as he sees fit." He stroked Nemo who was huddled, unhappy, on Severus' lap. Severus had come home to find the cat huddled in the bushes. Whatever Brankshaft's men had done had thoroughly spooked Nemo and the unfamiliar setting was not helping. Severus thought he'd very much like to strangle Brankshaft with his bare hands.

"But why is he trying to find Harry?" Charlie asked. "What could that possibly do for him?"

"The man who found the missing hero?" Alcander arched an eyebrow. "He'd go down in the history books, at the very least. And if he were to save Potter's life from a Death Eater attack, get Potter to thank him publicly, that would be almost as good as an endorsement from the hero himself. He'd be secure politically for the foreseeable future."

"He knows that he'll never be as popular as Shacklebolt because he didn't fight in the war," Draco agreed. "If he were to _make_ himself a hero, especially by saving Harry Potter of all people, he needn't ever worry about his popularity lagging."

"Okay. I think I understand all of that." Charlie ran a hand through his hair. "But how do you _know_ that this is all made up? I mean, for all we know, Brankshaft was telling the truth, right?"

"You don't put an innocent man under surveillance without a clear and present danger," Alcander all but growled. "When I was in the Auror corps, we wouldn't have stood for it, especially if that innocent man was a hero. Without a death threat, surveillance means that he's looking for incriminating evidence."

Severus continued to stroke Nemo, thinking. It was all very true, of course, but he couldn't help but wonder what Brankshaft's other game was. Because there was one. Severus could feel it. He'd not have admitted to so much, else. Brankshaft was playing a different angle, one that they had yet to see, and it meant nothing but trouble for Harry and Severus. Hadn't they earned the right to their peace yet? "You need to warn him, Draco," Severus said. "Longbottom as well. The first thing they'll be looking into are his old Hogwarts friends. Take Alcander with you- he can make sure Longbottom's wards are strong enough to handle what the Aurors are likely to try."

"Or here's a thought." Draco stood straight and raised a finger as though he had just thought of something ground-breaking. "_You_ could go warn Harry and the two of you can sit down to have an actual conversation!"

"Well, what if Harry did step forward?" Charlie cut in before an argument could start, placing a restraining hand on Draco's shoulder. It was something he had become adept at in recent days. It seemed Severus and Draco couldn't be in the same room without arguing about Harry. Charlie was often the one to diffuse the situation. Severus supposed that was to be expected from someone who worked with dragons for a living. "If Harry were to publicly announce that he was still alive, would that mean that Brankshaft would lay off of you?"

"And put Potter in danger from this 'new Death Eater threat.'" Alcander made air quotes around his head as he said the words. "Besides it's no guarantee- he might just blame a 'Death Eater' attack on Severus."

"Nor will we ask this of him," Severus said firmly in a tone that brooked no argument. "We can keep it as a contingency plan, but only if he is amenable, and only if there is absolutely no other option."

Draco and Alcander left shortly after for Longbottom's nursery, leaving Severus alone with the cat and the Weasley. "You keep protecting him, you know that?" Charlie said softly after they'd sat a moment in silence.

"It's a terrible habit of mine, developed nearly twenty-seven years ago. I tried giving it up, and I nearly succeeded for about a decade, but I suppose I've fallen off the wagon once more."

Charlie grinned. "You still care about him, that much is clear."

Severus said nothing in reply, but continued to stroke the cat on his lap who had finally fallen asleep and was snoring quite loudly for such a small animal.

Charlie moved to a seat closer to Severus. "You want to know what I think?"

"I daresay it will be a revelation."

"I think that you won't go to see him because you're protecting him. You think that Harry doesn't want to see you, that it will cause him pain, so you stay away."

_No_, Severus said quietly to himself. _You've got it wrong. I won't see him because I'm a coward. I'm afraid to hear the reason why._ But he kept that to himself "That's one opinion," he said aloud, noncommittally.

"But I also think," Charlie continued as though he hadn't heard, "that maybe Harry could do with a little _less_ protecting these days. That's all anyone ever seems to do around him anymore, is protect him. Everyone's so very careful about what they say or do around him. We mustn't upset Harry. He sacrificed so much. Don't suggest that he go out; he'll go when he's ready. Don't talk about the war, or he'll feel guilty. Mum even talks really quietly around him, as though she's afraid if she raises her voice, he'll shatter like glass." Charlie shook his head. "If you ask me, Harry could use a good dose of mean old Professor Snape who never took any excuses and always drove his students to try as hard as they possibly could." He stood from his seat and shrugged. "But hey, what do I know?" He walked towards the door. "Harry and I were never really that close. See you at dinner," he added with a wave as he left the room.

Severus had never really doubted what Draco saw in his Weasley lover, but had he, he would have understood it now. The man was devious, but in a purely Gryffindor manner, with only the truth and an open, friendly smile.

But he had to be exaggerating. Severus knew of at least one instance when Harry had gone out. He'd gone to Severus' house, to ask about the cupcakes, and have that odd, awkward conversation at Severus' kitchen table. And it couldn't have been an isolated incident. Harry wouldn't have been in hiding all these years and then just waltz on over to Severus' house to talk about those absurd little pastries. It didn't make any sense.

Harry never made any sense.

"Oh, Merlin." Severus buried his face in his hands. It was as he had always suspected. Prolonged exposure to a Weasley was dangerous to one's mental health.

* * *

><p>"Professor! Are you all right?"<p>

Severus paused in the doorway of Greens, bemused. "Yes, Longbottom, I am well enough. Is there any reason I shouldn't be?"

Longbottom looked a little bit sheepish at his outburst. "Just Draco told us what happened and I thought you might be… Well, never mind. I'm just glad that you're okay." Longbottom smiled. "I didn't know if you'd come today. Draco said you were staying with him for a while. I thought you might have taken a break from your potions, given the circumstances."

"Malfoy Manor has acceptable enough brewing facilities."

"And that would be of course the only reason to stop." Severus had to resist the urge to deduct points for Longbottom's attitude. Even after ten years away from his teaching post, some habits were hard to break.

"Reasons or no, Longbottom, I came here today for something very specific." Longbottom listened carefully as Severus detailed his needs, his eyebrows becoming more and more knit together as Severus spoke. A part of Severus feared that he would not be able to untangle them once more when they were finished.

Longbottom nodded slowly as Severus finished saying his piece. "All right," he said, but Severus could see from his face that he was unsure. "But you'll have to stop by the nursery tomorrow at one."

Severus took a steadying breath. "That will not be a problem."

The frown was not an expression that Severus was accustomed to seeing on Longbottom's round, genial face. "I won't be there. Let me fetch you a spare key." He rummaged in a drawer before coming out with a small, brass key.

Severus held out an open palm to accept it, but Longbottom hesitated, holding the key just over Severus' hand. "I'm really trusting you here, professor," he warned. "I really hope that I won't regret this."

And it was only because he had earned a grudging respect for the man that had once been his most despised student over these past ten years that Severus replied, "I do promise, Longbottom, that I will do my best not to betray that trust."

Longbottom released the key, and it dropped into Severus' hand, feeling much heavier than the small object should. He closed his fist around it, feeling the metal dig into his flesh. "Thank you," he said sincerely.

"Don't thank me until something comes of it." Longbottom eyed the hand holding the key warily, as though he was afraid the object might come to life and bite him. "If this all blows up, I'll be the only one to blame."

* * *

><p>When Severus arrived at the nursery, it wasn't as quiet as he expected it to be. Longbottom dealt in life, and life was never truly silent. Severus could hear the insects buzzing through the plants, the birds calling to each other in the trees, and the hoot of a certain snowy owl looking quite pleased with herself. Severus couldn't say for certain why the bird was so smug, but he could certainly guess. If he were to ever learn that the owl was actually a witch stuck in her animagus form, he wouldn't be the least bit surprised. That bird was far too intelligent for his peace of mind.<p>

"Well?" Severus asked, craning his neck to look up at her. "I assume that you know why I'm here." She gave a hoot in answer and ruffled her feathers self-importantly. Severus felt free to take that as an affirmative. "Then why don't you make yourself useful and do something about it, bird?" She hooted at him once more and flew off in the direction of the little cottage Severus now knew belonged to Harry. He'd figured as much; he set off in that direction as well.

He walked past the office entrance and around the building to the little, rounded front door. He debated for a moment whether he should just open it and damn the consequences, but decided that that would not be the most prudent course of action. Harry was powerful and, by all accounts, paranoid. Who could say what fate would befall the unwelcome visitor to this house? So he instead raised his fist to knock on the door.

It opened just a crack. "N-Neville isn't here… professor," the familiar voice filtered out from behind the door.

Severus wasn't surprised that Harry knew it was him. If Longbottom hadn't had the best wards money could buy before hand (and Severus was quite certain that he did), he now had _better _wards than money could buy, what with Alcander's adjustments. Harry had likely been alerted the moment Severus stepped up to the gate. It was also likely the reason he'd taken refuge inside the house. "I am quite aware of that fact. I'm here to see you."

The door opened a little bit wider. "W-what c-c-can I h-help you w-with?"

The stutter had gotten worse. He'd startled Harry with his request. He was about to startle him more. "For starters, we could be on the same side of the door," Severus replied, raising an eyebrow. "That side or this, it matters not to me, but I refuse to hold this conversation through a piece of wood."

Harry hesitated, but that was all right. Severus expected it. He wouldn't push, not yet, so he waited patiently for Harry's answer. Finally, Harry seemed to make up his mind and took a deep, visibly steadying breath. "W-would you l-like to come in?"

"Yes, thank you." Severus swept in through the open door, barely giving Harry time to step aside. He knew Harry was likely shocked and confused by his behavior, but that was of course the entire point.

"There's a s-s-sitting room just… there." Harry gestured- with his left arm, Severus noted. He kept the right held tight to his body. Severus wondered if it bothered him. "Can I m-m-make you some t-tea?"

"Yes, you _may_," Severus responded, putting emphasis on the correct word. He watched Harry carefully out of the corner of his eye. His reaction now would influence how Severus moved forward. Amusement would mean he could let up a little, that he wouldn't have to fight Harry do hard. Surprise would mean that he would have to push harder. Personally, Severus hoped for amusement. That would mean that the Harry he had known wasn't completely gone. It would mean _his_ Harry hadn't died with Voldemort.

Harry was looking at him in shock. Severus could feel his heart begin to drop, but then Harry shook his head and… sweet Merlin, was that a smile? "And you w-wonder why N-Neville still calls you… professor. I'll be b-back in a m-m-moment."

Severus had to sit when Harry left the room. The face might have changed, the hair might be wrong, he might be scarred, but _Merlin_ that was the exact same smile. Severus had nearly become completely undone at the sight.

Except for just the right corner of his mouth. That little section didn't quite move with the rest of his mouth, hidden as it was among the scars. A horrible thought occurred to him- perhaps it hurt Harry to smile.

When Severus could finally breath around the knot that had formed in his chest, he nearly smiled himself. Harry had always craved normalcy. It seemed that things were no different a decade later, and that was something Severus knew how to work with.

Harry came back into the room with two mugs and no tea things. Severus accepted his with a raised eyebrow, but sipped without saying anything. "You remembered," he murmured, almost to himself. No milk and just a hint of sugar, just as he had always taken it.

"H-hard to forget," Harry said with a small grin, sitting across from him. "N-never known anyone m-more particular about th-their t-tea. 'Just a sp-sprinkle of sugar,'" he mimicked, squaring his shoulders and looking down his nose. "'A p-pinch. Not even a f-full pinch. Half a p-pinch.'"

Severus didn't know whether to laugh or cry. So he did neither. "Too many people put far too much sugar in their tea," he said instead. "I prefer to enjoy the natural flavor."

"M-maybe they're just used to sh-shite tea."

It was oh-so-very easy to fall back into this banter with Harry. Too easy to keep sitting here and talking about nothing, pretend that nothing had ever happened between them, that they didn't have any more history between them than Severus had with Longbottom. Severus wished he dared use Legilimency to see what Harry felt about this. _What's going through your head? _he asked silently, but he kept it to himself. There was a reason for his visit and he needed to stay on task. "I've come to relay a message," he said, leaning back in his seat and crossing his legs. He watched Harry carefully over the rim of his teacup. "The proprietress of Blue's Cupcakery would very much like to see you again. She'd like you to come visit her." Harry started to shake his head emphatically. Severus pretended that he didn't see. "She's said you can come after closing, when no one else is there."

"N-n-n-no. I c-c-c-can't." Harry was still shaking his head, the too-long hair flying wildly about.

"Whyever not?" Severus asked, feigning ignorance. "Longbottom can watch his own plants for an hour or so, surely."

"It's n-not that, it's…" Harry trailed off, looking down at his hands- one gloved, one bare- as though they held the answer.

"It is what, exactly?" Severus prompted. "You seemed to have no trouble visiting me."

"That w-was d-different."

"Why was that different?"

Harry looked up at him, something like desperation in his one good eye. "Y-you-" He looked away. "You'd already s-seen," he said after a moment's pause, gesturing to the ruined side of his face. "You already kn-new."

_Was that really the only reason?_ Severus wished he could doubt it. "You are a wizard. Surely you've heard of something called a glamour before? If you don't want her to see your scars, don't let her see your scars. It's really quite simple."

"And th-this?" Harry asked harshly, pointing in the direction of his throat. "T-tell me, do y-you have a… glamour for th-this?"

"It's a stutter," Severus replied calmly. "Plenty of people have a stutter. I do believe muggles even have speech therapists to deal with that."

"And you th-think a… speech therapist c-could help with th-this?" Harry snorted derisively. "Think they have m-much experience with m-magical accidents?"

Cynical. When had Harry become so cynical? The last thing Severus had ever wanted was for Harry to become a bitter old cynic like himself. What had happened to that obnoxiously Gryffindorish sense of optimism? "Well I don't know if they can help." Severus took a leisurely sip of his tea. It was good quality- Longbottom's own specialty blend. Severus recognized the taste. "Do you? Have you been to see one?" Harry didn't meet his eyes, and that was all the answer Severus needed. "Well then, you can't be that self-conscious about it. Shall I pick you up tomorrow night, or would you rather go by yourself?" He took another sip of his tea before adding, "And don't even think about lying to me, Harry Potter."

"W-why are you d-doing this?"

"Charlie Weasley told me something curious." Severus uncrossed his legs and put his tea on the side table. Pity- it was going to get cold. "He told me that you don't leave the nursery. And yet, I distinctly remember you knocking at the door. So I'd like to know: which is the truth?"

It was hard to see under the hair and the scarring, but Severus could swear that he saw a flush heat Harry's cheeks. And he was ashamed to admit that the sight made him feel the need to cross his legs once more. "I t-told you. That was d-different."

"I'm afraid that I'll require more of an answer than that, Mr. Potter."

"Why are you d-doing this?" Harry asked again. Severus could see that he was starting to get angry. Angry was good. "You have no r-right."

"Don't I?" Severus asked mildly.

That gave Harry pause. "If th-this is your r-revenge or s-something-"

"Oh, honestly Potter, use your head for once. If I were to seek my revenge, you'd know it immediately without needing to ask." Severus laced his fingers together over his knee. "I'm here on someone else's behalf. A young man who used to come into my office wanting to be treated like all the other children. Do you remember him?" Harry glowered at him, and Severus took that as a yes. "Now, if I were to allow that young man to start living as a hermit, that would be rather contrary to his wishes, do you not think?"

"M-maybe he realized the he had no ch-choice in the m-matter anymore," Harry snapped. "Maybe he d-decided it was b-better to just be l-left alone."

"That's the answer of an idiot, and although he often did his best to act like one, he was no idiot." Severus leaned forward. "There's always a choice, Harry. I'm not asking you to take out an ad in the _Daily Prophet_ declaring that you're still alive. I'm asking you to go to a cupcake shop."

"Why does this m-matter to you?" Harry asked, his voice small.

"Because I made a promise to that young man. Because you need to be prepared for the possibility that Brankshaft will find you out. Because," Severus' throat ached, "ten years ago, you saved my life."

"You s-saved mine," Harry pointed out.

"No," Severus shook his head. "No, I didn't. But I can start now."

* * *

><p>Harry did end up going with Severus to Blue's Cupcakery, but only after he was heavily glamoured and only after he was sure there was no one else in the store. It was an almost physical pain to be standing next to a Harry that so resembled the one he'd lost ten years ago, the one he might never get back.<p>

The woman at Blue's didn't comment on Harry's stutter, although to tell the truth, she didn't let either of them talk much, prattling on so fast that Severus sometimes had trouble following her and showering them with pastries, most of which Severus passed on to Harry (except for the strawberry chocolate chili, which the woman handed him with a wink). They only stayed for a quarter hour. Severus didn't think Harry could handle much more than that- a decade of near hermitage was not easily shaken off. And when they Apparated back to Longbottom's nursery, Harry all but collapsed, pushed very near to his limit.

Longbottom was ready for them with food and tea. Like Severus, he'd realized the toll this would take on Harry and immediately pushed a mug into his hands and ushered him to a seat at the loaded table. Severus wondered if Harry had been this drained after he'd visited Severus' house, but he didn't want to ask. He wasn't sure if he wanted to hear the answer.

Severus left the little cottage while Longbottom had Harry in hand, trying to make a discreet exit, but Longbottom caught him on his way out. "You should stay and eat something, professor." The hope was clear in Longbottom's voice.

"I've done what I came here to do, and more needs doing elsewhere. Besides," Severus held up the bakery box from Blue's, "these need to be put away."

As Severus left, he couldn't shake the feeling of Longbottom's disappointed eyes boring into his back.

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><p><strong>Current Word Count:<strong> 15,841

*Wince* That number hurts to look at. I'm so pathetically behind. T-T**  
><strong>


	7. I'll say the things that you said

Okay, so I've had a lot of people tell me that _Only Fools Rush In_ has made them cry or tear up. This actually makes me very happy. Does that make me a sadist? Written 3,000 words today, but I'm running out of steam, so I need my lovely readers to give me lots of motivation.

Oh, quick note for anyone who hasn't read _Art of Potions_: Draco and Harry pretended to date in school to keep suspicion off of Sev and Harry- that's where they became friends. Anastasia King is Sev's psycho bitch of an ex that served as my villain in _AoP_

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><p>Severus was reading pamphlets in the sitting room of Malfoy Manor when Alcander came in, looking dejected. "I got a whole lot of nothing," he declared, flopping down on a sofa and sprawling out. Severus knew Draco would probably have a fit if he saw the antique furniture being used in that manner, but what Draco didn't know wouldn't hurt him. "None of my old friends from the Auror corps have anything info for us, although they were all supporters of Shacklebolt so Brankshaft likely…" Alcander trailed off, eyeing the pamphlets in Severus' hands. "Okay, this picture does not make <em>any <em>sense. What're you looking into speech therapists for? You're the most well-spoken person I've ever met."

Severus put the pamphlets aside. "You know very well that this isn't for me."

"I was hoping." Alcander ran a hand through his blond hair, the gray strands barely visible. "Please tell me you're reading those because you have some brilliantly mad plan to blackmail Brankshaft with them or something, because I don't want to hear the only other reason I can think of."

"Alcander-"

"I thought you were finally giving this Potter fellow up! I mean, Merlin Sev, I'd have thought you learned your lesson with King."

Severus narrowed his eyes. "This is nothing like what happened with Anastasia, Alcander, and I do not appreciate the comparison."

"No? Let's recap shall we?" Alcander tapped his forefinger against his lips, a look of great concentration on his face. "Your ex who treated you like shit comes back after years of you not hearing a word from them. You let them back in, find out they have an agenda and _kablammy_! You find yourself in a life-threatening situation."

"Kablammy?" Severus repeated, raising an eyebrow.

Alcander scowled. "Don't try to change the subject. You have to admit that there are some parallels there."

"Anastasia never actually meant me harm. And Harry doesn't have an agenda."

Alcander sighed, straightening up into a sitting position. "I'm not trying to say that he does." He leaned forward and clasped his hands in front of him. "I just don't want to see you hurt again. You don't exactly have the best track record with your exes, you know?"

Severus snorted. "By that logic, I should be avoiding you at all costs."

"You and I both know that we were never that much to each other. Friends with benefits, maybe, but nothing more." Alcander was looking down at the rug as though it was an essential part of the conversation. "I kept it secret, you know, you and Potter. I thought maybe he was good for you- you were certainly opening up more than you ever had after that bitch King. I knew it was inappropriate and just this side of legal, I knew it could cost you your job, and I knew that there was a very good chance that Potter wouldn't survive the war and you'd get your heart broken. But I kept it quiet because I thought it made you happy. Now I wonder if you wouldn't have been better off if I had gone to Dumbledore with it."

Severus gave Alcander a long look. "Albus wouldn't have done anything to stop it if you had. He knew."

Alcander whipped his head up to stare at Severus. "You _told_ him?"

"No, he figured it out on his own." Severus steepled his fingers together in front of himself. "When I brought Harry to him after... he asked me if I was the most appropriate person to stay with him while the Healers tried to save him. He had that disapproving look on his face, and I knew." He pressed his forefingers to his mouth. "There's no telling how long he had known. Maybe from the very beginning. Albus always did know everything that went on in that castle."

Alcander's eyes were wide. "You mean, he just let you carry on an affair with a student? Merlin, what sort of school was he running?"

Severus shrugged. "He needed both myself and Harry under his thumb and at his disposal. Were he to try and separate us, that would have the opposite affect. Albus was nothing if not shrewd."

"But once he knew that Harry had defeated You-Know-Who, he kept you from him," Alcander filled in, his sharp investigator's mind working it out. "That's why you didn't know that Potter was still alive."

"I always assumed that Harry would have found a way to contact me if he were able to. When I didn't hear anything..." Severus trailed off, his throat constricting. "The wound was terrible, Alcander. When I saw it, I didn't think that he could survive it. And as you well know, the war didn't end with Voldemort's passing. When it finally was, Albus was dead and the world was convinced that Harry was as well. There was no way for me to find out what had happened."

"Jeez, Sev. I didn't know." Alcander shook his head. "I'm sorry, really I am. But that doesn't mean I want to watch Potter stomp on your heart again."

"I have no intention of letting anyone 'stomp on my heart.'" Severus picked the pamphlets back up. "I'm simply repaying my debt to him."

"Just try not to split your focus too much, all right? The rest of us are trying to stop Brankshaft from persecuting you, and it won't do much good if all you're focused on is finding Potter the nation's best speech therapist." The worry didn't leave Alcander's face, despite his words. "I still think you'd be better off if you just left Potter be-"

"Our current circumstances are hardly allowing for that," Severus interrupted dryly.

Alcander frowned at him. "I just don't want you to get hurt again. So be careful, all right? Whatever you two had, it clearly doesn't mean all that much to him anymore and the sooner you accept that, the sooner you can move on and be happy."

"Trust me, Alcander. I accepted that a long time ago."

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><p>Neville Longbottom sitting in Malfoy Manor never boded well for anyone, Severus figured as he swept into the sitting room. Draco had sent him an urgent summons, and he and Longbottom were sitting together, talking in low, urgent voices. Draco looked up at Severus' entrance. "Neville says his wards were breached," he explained, worry evident on his face."There's no way to tell if they actually got in." Longbottom shrugged. "I checked everywhere, but I couldn't find any sign that they did."<p>

"Still, we can't assume that they didn't." Severus sat on the sofa next to Draco. This was a worrying development. Maybe they'd followed Severus there the other day. There was no other reason for them to think Harry was there, not in the short amount of time that they'd been looking. Unless they'd been looking for a lot longer than Severus had realized. Oh Merlin, it couldn't mean what he thought it did, could it?

"Harry didn't see anything?" Draco asked, interrupting Severus' train of thought.

"No. But he also said that the wards didn't alert him until after the fact." Longbottom was worrying at his fingernails with his teeth. "Whoever they were, they were good."

"Harry can't continue to stay there. He should come here-"

"Absolutely not," Severus said. That would be the absolute worst thing that they could do right now.

Draco was looking at him with disgust. "Look, I know you two have issues, but I'd think you could deal to be in his company for a few days if it meant Harry's safety."

"Don't be an imbecile, Draco," Severus growled. "The timing is too coincidental. Mere days after I go to see Harry at Longbottom's nursery, the wards are breached. Tell me, what does that say to you."

Draco's eyes widened. "They still have you under surveillance. They have my damn _house_ under surveillance."

Severus nodded. "And they're trying to goad us into moving Harry. My guess is that they didn't even enter your property, Longbottom. They know that Alcander strengthened your wards, and they want to know _why_. They'll be watching there now as well. The minute we move Potter, they'll know where he is."

"So what do we do?" Longbottom's voice was small and Severus was suddenly reminded of the boy he'd been at school, skittish and shy, a bumbler who looked to adults to make things right, and was still forced onto the front lines. Severus hadn't been able to make things right for him back then. He should have.

"The same that we've been doing." Severus shook his head to clear it of those memories. "Anything out of the ordinary will look suspicious. We'll send Alcander over to check on your wards, just as he would normally. You should probably even contact the department of magical law enforcement to report a possible break-in."

"And if they want to search the property?" Draco arched an eyebrow at him, an expression Severus knew the brat had picked up from him. "What then?"

"We let them." Severus saw Draco opening his mouth to protest and held up a hand to stop him. "It would look suspicious, else. Potter can hide well enough under that cloak of his. There's no reason that he'll be discovered."

"What if they did get in? What if you're, err, wrong? Sorry," Longbottom added, looking sheepish. "Harry's just going to stay where he is?"

Severus was amused that Longbottom felt the need to apologize for suggesting that Severus might be wrong. It had been known to happen, after all. "If they did get in, then chances are they already know and moving him will do nothing. If they don't already know, they will when we move him. The best thing is for him to stay where he is."

Longbottom was frowning. "Will he be able to go out again?"

Draco snorted as though he was amused. "Harry doesn't _go_ out. It's not like that will be a problem."

Severus raised an eyebrow at Longbottom- it was his expression first, dammit!- who shrugged. "I hadn't had the chance to tell him yet."

"Tell me what?" Draco looked back and forth between the two of them. "What happened?" He turned to look at Severus accusingly. "What did you do?"

"Why is it that you immediately assume the worst? I merely took your advice. You should be pleased."

Draco's mouth dropped open. "You went to talk to Harry?" Severus nodded. "And you got Harry to go _out_? Merlin, why does no one tell me these things?" He whirled on Severus. "What happened? What did you say? What did _he_ say? Where in Merlin's name did you go?"

"There is a time and a place, Draco, and this is neither. Please keep your mind on the task at hand." Severus turned back to Longbottom, ignoring his godson's shock and outrage. "It should be all right. They already know that you have an employee working there full time- or at least, they should if they are at all intelligent, and Harry isn't immediately recognizable as he is. Glamours are suspicious however. He won't be able to use those any more." He tapped a finger against his lips. "I have some Polyjuice Potion stockpiled back in my workroom, but..."

"We have it here as well," Draco injected. "Father always insisted that one should have a supply at hand at all times, in case the need should arise. It was one of the reasons I was so good at Potions when I started Hogwarts; Father taught me to brew it when I was eight."

Severus could imagine. Lucius had always hated brewing. Severus wasn't surprised that he'd had his son do the work for him as soon as Draco was tall enough to see over the rim of the cauldron. The thought made cold anger twist in his stomach. He should have done his duty as godfather and gotten Draco out of this house much sooner than he did. He'd failed all the children in his charge, it seemed. "Polyjuice is much more difficult to detect than any other sort of magical concealment. They won't realize he's using it unless they're looking for it specifically. Your friend Mr. Thomas would be the best candidate for Harry to impersonate, as he's known to often come and go from your nursery."

Draco was looking at him oddly, but Longbottom nodded. "All right. I'll go talk to Dean, right before I report the break in to the Ministry. Thanks, professor, Draco."

When he was gone, Severus expected Draco to pounce on him as he had before, but his godson was simply looking at him contemplatively. "You called him Harry."

"Is that not his name?"

Draco shook his head. "You've been calling him Potter, like you did before you two were... you know. But just now, you referred to him as Harry."

"Old habits die hard I suppose."

"Maybe." Draco was still watching him like Severus was about to do something extraordinary. "So, tell me, how did your talk go? Did the two of you clear the air?"

"We went to a cupcake shop, Draco. We did not have a heart to heart conversation."

"A cupcake shop?" This time, Draco raised the both of his eyebrows. "You mean like a date?"

Severus sighed. He should have known that Draco would read too much into this. "No, not like a date. He knew the woman that ran the shop before the war. It was suggested to me that Potter could use some prodding to leave the nursery, and I thought that would be the best place to start."

"Suggested to you? By whom?"

"Someone you know very well."

Draco shook his head. "He's such a meddler sometimes," he said, but he couldn't quite keep the fond smile from his lips.

"He's a Gryffindor," Severus pointed out. "They have a tendency to meddle."

Draco didn't disagree. "So are you going to see him again?"

"Perhaps," Severus conceded. "But only if you first tell me why you seem so eager to have us back together."

"Not necessarily _together_-together," Draco clarified, looking down at his fingernails. "But I'd be happy if you two could be friends at least. You were both happy together, any idiot could have seen that. You know, Neville told me that Thomas figured out Harry and I weren't actually together, but he kept it quiet because he knew whoever Harry was _actually_ seeing was making him happy."

Just like Alcander had. But Harry couldn't have been that happy if he was willing to let Severus believe he was dead. "Harry expressed to me that he is embarrassed by his stutter. I've been looking into muggle speech therapists for him, as well as a number of potions that might help him with that."

Draco smiled. "Thank you," he said, pulling Severus into a brief embrace.

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><p>For the first time in a very long time, Severus dreamt of Anastasia. She was holding a syringe and standing over a bloody body. She smiled at him, her mysterious smile, always so full of secrets. "I told you, Sev," she said to him. "I told you that this would always have to end this way. I told you I would take you from him. You're the one who's alone now."<p>

Severus knelt beside the body. It was still breathing and Severus couldn't decide if that was a blessing or a curse. Merlin, the poor bastard had to be in utter agony. The skin on the right side of his body was hanging off in strips as though something had exploded out from under his skin.

One green eye opened at him and Severus felt his heart stop. _No_, not _Harry_! It couldn't be! He had to find Albus. He reached down to pick the boy up, but Harry frowned at him. "Who are you?" he asked, the skin on his face flapping in a macabre way.

Severus woke with his heart pounding and something wet on his face. That wasn't what had happened. Anastasia had been admitted to St. Mungo's permanent wing months before, and when Severus had found him, Harry had been blessedly unconscious. He hadn't woken, hadn't said anything. And Severus had been convinced he barely had a chance at survival. Anastasia hadn't had anything to do with it.

But that syringe. She'd tried to dose Harry with the Oublier L'Amour potion, a potion that if taken willingly, would completely erase a loved one from memories, as though they hadn't existed at all. If taken unwillingly, it would remove all relationships and the ability to forge more. Severus and Alcander (and that snowy owl, too) had been able to stop Anastasia before she could. Except...

Except the plunger had been pushed in. A small amount of the potion had entered Harry's blood stream. Severus hadn't thought about it in years. He'd kept a very close eye on Harry for weeks after the incident, but he hadn't seen any change in his behavior. But then Harry faced Voldemort. There had been so much magic that night, racing through Harry's body and his blood, was it possible that it had awoken the Oublier L'Amour in Harry's system? Harry hadn't gotten a full dose- maybe instead of making him forget Severus altogether, it had made him forget what they had. Or maybe that it had made Harry forget that what they were to each other had once been important to him. After all, Albus had kept him hidden away for two years. There had been nothing to contradict the potion, and maybe it had all faded away to the back of his mind.

Severus stood to fetch a glass of water from the bathroom, feeling sick. _Is this your revenge finally coming to light, Anastasia? _he thought, staring at his sallow reflection in the mirror. _Has it taken you ten years to finally get back at me?_

Severus didn't know which he preferred- Harry ignoring him because of a potion or Harry ignoring him because he no longer cared. But he did know that he wouldn't be able to rest until he had figured out which it was. He had made a promise to Harry after that night. He'd sworn he'd never let Harry forget him. If this was because of the potion, he had a vow to live up to. And if it wasn't...

He'd survive. He always did.

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><p><strong>Word Count: <strong>18,908

Write or die has been very useful today. Anyone who wants to try it go to writeordie (dot) com. Seriously, it's a great word count boost. I'm off to do another one.**  
><strong>


	8. I guess I was just a little too late

*phew* Yay for word marathons! I honestly have no idea where I get some of these ideas. You come up with the strangest things during NaNo, I'm telling you. Last November, on the last day I was averaging about 1k words an hour and came up with this whole mythology concerning the First Dryad and his forest (dyads were male _and_ female in my story) and these dryadic doors, and then I emerged after 50k had been written going "Wtf, where did that come from?" So what I'm trying to say is, I don't plan for a lot of these scenes. They just kind of _happen_. Miracle of NaNo.

I've only done cursory research on speech therapy, since I'm behind and I don't have time to do a more in-depth search, so if I got something wrong, please let me know!

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><p>Severus was on his way to Greens when it happened. He was stopped in the street by a pair of Aurors. One was older, maybe even older than Severus, clearly a veteran. He nodded politely to Severus. The other was young, and very clearly green. Severus didn't recognize him- either too young to have been Severus' student or had just started in those last years when Severus' attention had been captured by the war and one student in particular. The young one very nearly snarled at him, clearly trying to be intimidating. Severus found him as intimidating as a Chihuahua.<p>

He directed his attention to the older one. "Is there a problem?"

The older man looked a little chagrined. "I do hope that you'll forgive me, Mr. Snape, but we've got some... intel saying that you might be carrying something illegal. I'm certain that there's been some sort of misunderstanding-"

"So you'd better be prepared for us to search your person," the young one barked.

Severus looked down his long, hooked nose at the young Auror. "Be quiet, puppy. Your elders are trying to hold a conversation."

"You can't speak to me like that you Death Eater scum," the Auror started to growl.

"Shut your mouth, Ayers! This man's a hero, and you'll treat him with respect," the other snapped at his partner. He turned back to Severus. "Please excuse him, Mr. Snape. He's new. He never fought in the war."

Severus inclined his head. "I can assure you that I have nothing of an illegal nature on my person, Auror..."

"Biller," the man supplied.

"Auror Biller. But I understand that you have a job to do. I will consent you to searching me so long as you can promise me that the puppy won't touch me."

Ayers opened his mouth in outrage, but Biller held up his hand and gave him a warning look. "That's reasonable enough, Mr. Snape. Now if you'll just step over here," he gestured to a little alleyway just to their right. "I'm sure you'd rather not have this done in public. I'll make it as quick as I can, I promise."

"Of course, Auror Biller." His upper lip curled in a sneer as he passed Ayers, but he stepped past them into the alleyway.

Biller patted him down quickly and professionally. Truly, the only thing that Severus had in his pockets that might be considered at all unusual were the pamphlets for the speech therapists. Biller didn't say anything about them, but Ayers seemed determined to try and ruffle Severus and guffawed loudly upon seeing them. "Cat got your tongue, Snape?" the young man jeered. "Resorting to muggle medicine now are we? And what would your dear, departed Dark Lord have to say about that?"

"Ayers!" Biller was clearly angered by the behavior of his rookie partner, but Severus took it in stride.

"A friend of mine was involved in a magical accident during the war. He's healed now, but he has some trouble speaking still. It's never easy to repair severed vocal cords." Severus made a slicing motion across his throat, and Ayers paled. Honestly, after Nymphadora Tonks, Auror candidates had certainly dropped in quality. It had always amazed him that Tonks had become an Auror, despite her special gifts, but she was certainly made of sturdier stuff that this yappy little puppy. "Of course, this was while you were huddled behind your mother's skirts."

Biller ran a quick scanning spell over Severus. "Well, that will be all, Mr. Snape. I really do apologize for the inconvenience."

"I trust that you didn't find whatever it was you were told I had."

"No, of course not." Biller smiled a sheepish grin. "Didn't think you would. You're not stupid enough to walk around with Dark artifacts in broad daylight, I said, even if you had them. But we had to act on the tip."

"I understand, Auror Biller. I do appreciate the job you do. I'd have had a much more difficult time during the war if it wasn't for the Auror corps." He inclined his head. "I do hope we can meet again under more pleasant circumstances." Severus stepped past Ayers on his way out of the alley, acknowledging him with a single, "Puppy."

"Hey Snape, tell me, is it true you fucked your students over their desks?" Ayers called after him. "Like them young, don't you? Isn't that why McGonagall wouldn't let you back into Hogwarts?"

"Ayers! If I catch you saying something like that again, I will hex you so hard your grandchildren will feel it," Biller said furiously. "That man has an Order of Merlin, First Class, do you know what that means?"

"That he blew Shacklebolt?"

Severus could swear that he saw a flash of red light out of the corner of his eye. He reached Greens only to find Longbottom waiting by the door for him. "You're late," Longbottom said, his voice wavering slightly. "You're never late."

"Forgive me, Longbottom. Something came up." Once they were sitting down with the customary pot of tea and plate of sandwiches, and once Severus was certain that Longbottom had locked the store, he told him what had happened with the Aurors in the street. "Brankshaft is attempting to discredit me," he concluded. "And it won't be all that difficult, if today's experience is anything to go by."

"What do you mean? You said that Biller fellow respected you. It was just the young one, and what does he know?"

"The same as the rest of the world." Severus hadn't touched his sandwich. He didn't have much of an appetite. "That I was the only Death Eater they let free."

"You were a _spy_," Longbottom corrected incredulously. "You were a Death Eater that switched sides to _help_ us."

"A traitor once, a traitor always." It's something Voldemort had said to him once. He couldn't repress a shudder at the memory. "Not to mention that I committed a number of crimes in order to keep my cover. If any of that comes to light, those like Biller will be the _only_ ones that still believe I was working for Dumbledore."

Longbottom had paled at the mention of crimes, but he didn't ask. He wasn't so innocent as to not realize what Severus might have done to convince Voldemort and the Death Eaters that he was one of them. "So, how do we stop it? I mean, McGonagall will laugh at anyone who suggests that you're a pedophile, and Professor Sprout told me that she keeps asking you to take back your position at Hogwarts, but the rest, how do we counter it?"

"We can't." That was the part that bothered him the most, that Ayers had suggested Severus had fucked his students. It hit a little too close for comfort. Of course, the only student he'd ever had an inappropriate relationship with was Harry, and he'd been over the age of consent, dammit. But was it just a vicious rumor, or had Brankshaft somehow found out? And how would he- he'd only taken office while Severus and the rest of the world thought Harry dead. How could he have possibly found out?

"Professor?"

Severus realized that this wasn't the first time that Longbottom had tried to get his attention. "Forgive me, Longbottom. I was just thinking."

The other man was chewing on his fingernails. "I asked what you meant when you said that we can't do anything to counter these rumors."

"We can counter the rumors well enough. It's the truth that we can do nothing about. I have plenty of darkness in my past that Brankshaft can use against me."

"But that shouldn't matter!" Longbottom stood from his seat and started pacing. "You know who we should talk to?" he said after a moment's consideration. "Kingsley! We should find out how Brankshaft got him to step down and what he knows."

It was a good plan. Unfortunately, Severus had already thought of it. "No one can get in touch with Shacklebolt. The official reason is that he's dealing with personal matters and doesn't wish to be disturbed, but..."

Longbottom stopped mid-pace. "You don't think he's dead, do you?" he asked, horrified.

Severus hoped not. He'd actually rather liked Shacklebolt. Of all the members in the Order, Severus had gotten on with him the best. "I think it's far more likely that it was part of Brankshaft's blackmail, that Shacklebolt couldn't be in contact with any former Order members. Racking up bodies, especially bodies of prominent figures like Shacklebolt, would be far too risky this early in the game."

Longbottom nodded. "So that means you're probably not in danger of dying either."

"No. Just of life in Azkaban. Or getting Kissed." Severus put his hands in his pockets, trying to distract himself from those thoughts, and something crinkled. He pulled out the speech therapist pamphlets. He'd nearly forgotten about them. He handed them over to Longbottom. "Give these to Potter for me, will you? I've narrowed it down to these three as the best candidates, and he can pick out the one he thinks is best."

Longbottom's brows were furrowed in confusion as he looked through the pamphlets, but then his expression cleared and he grinned. "He's not gonna want to go."

"That is irrelevant. He no longer wishes to stutter, then he'd best do something about it."

Longbottom ducked his head, and Severus strongly suspected that he was attempting to hide a snicker. "I knew you'd be good for him, professor. Thank you."

Severus allowed himself a small smile. "Don't thank me until something comes of it," he quoted. "If this all blows up, I'll be the only one to blame."

This time, Longbottom couldn't suppress his laughter.

* * *

><p>Harry was surprisingly willing to go along with Severus to the speech therapist he had chosen. It might have had something to do with the fact that he was Polyjuiced to look like Dean Thomas and was going somewhere his stutter wouldn't be looked at oddly. Or it could have had something to do with the fact that Harry finally had some measure of control over his condition. Whatever the case, he didn't protest when Severus came to collect him, only making a face when Severus handed him the vial of Polyjuice potion.<p>

Thomas was there with them (so there was no chance of two Dean Thomases out and about London), and he grinned at Harry's reluctance. "Better drink it fast, Harry or I might start to be offended."

"I-I'm sure your h-hair doesn't make this t-taste any b-better," Harry responded with a grimace. "You f-forget, I've h-had this before."

"Never with my hair in it. Go on, Harry drink up." Thomas bounced on his toes. "I want to see you turn into me."

Severus was curious to see it as well. Not to see him turn into Thomas, but Harry's stutter may have been purely physiological. If that was the case, going to the speech therapist while Polyjuiced would be a waste of time. But of course, the user kept their own voice and mind when they drank the potion, so maybe it wouldn't make a difference either way. It was an interesting theoretical debate, one that Severus would have taken up with another expert in the field had there not been more pressing matters requiring his attention.

Harry held his nose and downed the potion in one gulp. The potion started working instantly, his hair getting shorter and curlier, the skin getting darker, his scars smoothing out. Before long, Severus was standing in front of two identical Dean Thomases.

"Wicked," the original said, his teeth showing whitely against his skin. "That never gets old."

"W-well then next time, y-you can t-take it," Harry said, his voice sounding odd coming out of Thomas' mouth. He shuddered. "Th-that's never f-fun."

Severus could hear no difference in Harry's stutter. There went that theory. "We'd best be leaving soon or the potion will wear off before we're finished."

Thomas waved them off. "Bye Harry! Don't do anything I wouldn't do! Especially cause you're, you know, me."

When they met with the speech therapist, Severus could understand why Harry had picked her. Oh, she had wonderful credentials, of course, and came highly recommended, but she had an easy smile and dressed professionally, but comfortably. This was someone who made a living putting people at ease, and it showed in her manner.

"Mr. Evans and Dr. Jones, correct? Come on in." Neither of them used their real names in case Brankshaft's people came to question the therapist later. She could truthfully say that she'd never heard of a Severus Snape or a Harry Potter. And while Severus was quite certain that this was a woman who would abide by doctor/ patient confidentiality clauses quite strictly, she was also a muggle and would have no defense against the kind of interrogation a wizard was capable of. Harry was posing as James Evans (a rather obvious alias, but Severus let that slide) and Severus was his physician, a Dr. Thomas Jones.

They followed the therapist, Dr. Alleya Clarke, into her office, which rather than having the sort of leather furniture and large, wooden desks one might expect, it had over-stuffed chairs and a couch that looked broken in and comfortable. There was a desk, but it was stuck in a corner and delicately crafted out of metal. In short, it looked like the flat of a well-off twenty-something, rather than a doctor's office. Severus guessed that was the point.

The woman sat in one of the overstuffed chairs rather than at her desk, and gestured for Harry and Severus to sit as well. They sat together on the couch, Harry sticking close to Severus' side. Dr. Clarke consulted her clipboard before looking over at Harry. "Now James, why don't you tell me why you're here today," she said, her voice was soft and kind.

Harry shot a confused look at Severus, that clearly said _I thought you already told her all of this._ Severus just nodded at him, encouraging him to speak. "I h-h-have a st-stutter," Harry told her, slowly as though he thought she were a bit daft.

"Yes, Dr. Jones explained that much to me. But I want to know what you're doing here, right now, inside of my office."

Harry looked even more confused. Severus resisted the urge to explain it to him- he was no longer Harry's professor and it wasn't his job to spell this sort of thing out to him. "W-we had an ap...pointment?" he replied, though it sounded more like a question.

Dr. Clarke smiled, though not unkindly. "Yes, and why did you want to make this appointment today, James?"

Realization seemed to finally dawn on Harry. "I w-want to c-cure my... stutter."

Dr. Clarke leaned forward, clasping her hands together over the clipboard that was balanced on her knee. "Before we do anything, I need you to understand one very important thing: there is no cure for stuttering. Now, Dr. Jones referred you to me because he said that your speech impediment was causing you distress, keeping you from going out and meeting new people, and that's something I'm going to do my best to rectify. But you can't come in here expecting to be cured."

"S-so what's the p-point?" Harry frowned.

"The point is, James, I can make you comfortable with the way you speak. I can help you try to control your stutter, teach you ways to help lessen it, but it's going to be _work_ and you may not always get the results that you want. That's not to say that there's no hope." Dr. Clarke gestured to a bulletin board on her wall, full of polaroid pictures, each had her posing with a different person, everyone one of them beaming so hard that Severus' cheeks hurt in sympathy. "Those are my most successful patients, some which graduated from therapy, some which still come to see me from time to time. Most of them, James, rarely stutter any more. A number of them never do. That doesn't mean that they're cured of it, however, but they know how to control the stutter. And there are a few of them that still stutter often enough, but they know what sort of situations they can expect it to occur, so it no longer bothers them. That's always my goal, James. I never set out to cure someone of their speech problems but to help them live with it. And that's the goal that you have to have as well, otherwise coming here will be a waste of your time. Do you understand that?"

Harry looked a little bit stunned, but nodded. Dr. Clarke smiled. "I know it's a bit much to take in, so today I'll just focus on getting some information from you, and you can mull it over for the next few days before you decide whether or not to continue." She picked up her clipboard once more, pulling a pen from out behind her ear. "Dr. Jones said that your speech impediment started after a bad accident, is that correct?" Harry nodded once more, but averted his eyes. Dr. Clarke turned to Severus. "Now, as far as you know was there any neurological trauma or injuries to the vocal cords?"

"There may have been neurological trauma." Harry was studiously not looking at him either. "I was not his physician at the time, so I cannot say for certain on either count."

Dr. Clarke nodded as though she expected the answer. "Well, when that is the case, I like to work closely with a neurologist."

"Of course," Severus said smoothly. He could modify the woman's memory later so that she'd think he was a neurologist. "And what about psychological trauma? The accident was very damaging emotionally." Now Harry definitely _was_ looking at him- well, actually glaring was more the word.

"There's no evidence that links psychological trauma to stuttering, though sometimes a person can become more withdrawn and nervous after a traumatic event. But the likelier case, for James at least, is that it started as a part of the physiological damage."

"Started?" Severus asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Sometimes, even if the wounds heal properly, the impediment stays, a sort of psychosomatic reaction, if you will. Those are the cases that actually have the best chance of success," she winked at Harry, "so that's what we'll be hoping with for James. Are there any other neurological deficits that might lead you to believe otherwise?"

"Not to my knowledge, no, but I will have to consult with his neurologist before I can give you an exact answer."

"All right." She marked all this information on her clipboard. "Now James, I want you to think of where you feel most comfortable. Close your eyes and go there." Harry looked uncomfortable but did as she said anyway. His fingers stretched out and brushed Severus' own. "Can you tell me where you are right now?" Dr. Clarke's voice was soft and even, almost hypnotic.

"At school." Harry smiled. Severus felt a pang in his chest. "I went to b-boarding school."

"And you feel safe there?" Dr. Clarke asked in that same voice, writing on her clipboard.

"Never felt safer in m-my life then when I w-was there."

Severus could tell that Harry's stutter was miles better while he was imagining Hogwarts than when he'd entered Dr. Clarke's office. Dr. Clarke clearly could as well; she gave Severus a thumbs up. "Okay James, you can open your eyes now." Harry did, and the smile disappeared from his face. He drew his hand away from Severus'. "Well, I definitely think that if we can work together, you, me, and Dr. Jones here, we can help you out. I've seen a lot worse." She stood from her seat, brushing the wrinkles out of her trousers. Harry and Severus followed suit. "Like I said, take a few days to think it over. It's not going to be easy, and there is no miracle cure, so I want you to be absolutely certain before you decide to go forward with me. Dr. Jones has my number if you do." She shook Severus' hand and then held her hand out to Harry. He shook it with his right hand, something like wonder on his face. "I hope to hear from you soon."

Harry and Severus made their way out of the office. "Wh-what do you think?" Harry asked him, before they reached the Apparition point. "D-do you think it's w-worth it?"

"There's no harm in trying." Severus stepped onto the small "x" that marked the Apparition point, holding an arm out to Harry. "The worst that could happen is that it doesn't help, but Dr. Clarke seems to think that it will."

Harry took his arm, stepping in close to Severus' body. "And y-you trust h-her? You d-don't think she's j-just out for... profit?"

These times were the hardest. Harry couldn't Apparate. Severus had never asked why, though he assumed it had something to do with Harry's injuries. They had to use Side- Along Apparition which required Severus to hold him close so he didn't get splinched. "Of course she's out for a profit, but someone that goes into a field like that does it because they feel a need to help people. I don't believe that she would string you along if it had no benefit to you. Besides, if she did things like that, she wouldn't have such a good reputation."

"I s-suppose you're r-right," Harry sighed. He braced himself against Severus. "L-let's get this over w-with. I h-hate this p-part."

"I couldn't agree more," Severus murmured before the two wizards Disapparated with a loud crack.

* * *

><p><strong>Word Count: <strong>22,537

Still. So far. Behind. T-T I'm going to try my damndest, that's for sure, but I don't know if I'm making it this time. Writeordie, you'll be seeing a lot of me the next (eep!) 7 days.**  
><strong>


	9. Cause I'd already know

Umm, if you haven't noticed, the rating of the story has been changed. Because of this chapter. Because I wrote smut. *hides face* Don't blame me; I wanted to use a "fade to black," but they _insisted_ *sob*. I've never written anything like that before.

Longer Author's note at the end of the chapter.

* * *

><p>Longbottom was the next to be stopped by the Aurors. This time, he was brought into the Ministry to be questioned, ostensibly about the break- in at his nursery, but they all knew better. Severus nearly saw red when he heard; it was one thing for Brankshaft to harass him, or even Draco, given their backgrounds and known associates, but it was clear that Brankshaft was willing to drag any and all of Severus' acquaintances into this mess. Severus wished he could hex the man without getting arrested.<p>

Longbottom had been slightly shaken by the encounter, but looked no worse for the wear. He even seemed amused when Severus questioned him about what had happened. "You don't need to worry about me, professor," he said with a small grin. "I'm fine."

"I'm am not worried about you, you nitwit. I am simply trying to determine if you gave them any information they could use against us."

"Right. Of course," Longbottom conceded with a nod, but the smile never left his lips.

The incident made them all the more careful. Both Severus and Longbottom were recipients of the Order of Merlin (though Longbottom's was third class), and if the Minister felt that he could stop the two of them in the streets with impunity, there was no telling what he'd do to the others.

Still, Severus couldn't figure out his game. Yes, finding Harry would be a good move, politically, and yes, a new Death Eater threat would put the population on his side, especially if he could put an actual face (which was looking more and more like Severus') on it. But Brankshaft was taking terrible risks, _especially_ now that he'd dragged Longbottom into it. The Longbottoms had always been a very well respected wizarding family, and Neville Longbottom was popular and well-liked in many influential circles. Brankshaft wasn't stupid; he wouldn't be taking these risks if he didn't have an endgame, one that they couldn't see. Severus wished that they could find Shacklebolt, ask him what he knew, but although Alcander had taken up the case, they couldn't find any sign of him. Severus convinced himself that that was a good sign, that a living, breathing ex-Auror could hide and protect himself better than a body could.

And then there was Harry. Longbottom had yet to tell him of the incident, or of the one that had happened to Severus. The Harry they'd known years ago would have done something reckless with the information, gone out and put himself in danger so that they wouldn't have to suffer because of him. Severus wasn't sure how this Harry would react to the information, but it was more than likely that he'd just feel guilty and sulk, Longbottom told him. On a normal day, Severus would find that unacceptable, but these days he conceded that it was easier to keep Harry in the dark.

Although how long they'd be able to keep Harry in the dark was a completely different story. He was well aware that something was going on, and they'd already told him of Brankshaft. Besides, Longbottom could not keep a secret (save for the one he'd kept from Severus for over a decade, but that was different- Severus had known he was keeping a secret and hadn't cared. He could be an idiot at times). Longbottom said he sometimes caught Harry staring at him like he was trying to figure something out. Severus wasn't in Harry's company often enough to say the same. And what with Alcander around the nursery all the time these days, strengthening the wards, Harry had to know that something was out of the ordinary.

It was difficult sometimes. Harder than it had been when he'd thought Harry was dead. He was no closer to figuring out the reason that Harry had kept him in the dark all these years, but that was partly his own fault. He didn't want to bring it up. And Harry- Harry never acted any differently around him, never gave any indication that he did remember. Except when he'd gone to Severus' house.

Severus escorted Harry to the speech therapist once a week, though he couldn't say why. It was true that Harry couldn't (or wouldn't) Apparate on his own, but it was also true that Severus wasn't the only one that could do a Side-Along Apparition. Longbottom could have easily done it, or Draco, or Charlie Weasley, and any of them would have been more than willing to, but Severus never asked. And Dr. Clarke no longer needed him with her in the sessions. Perhaps he was just a masochist, wanting to pretend for half a moment that he was holding Harry in his arms for a reason other than travel. Harry had never complained, to Severus' knowledge, but he always stepped away as soon as they arrived at their destination.

Dr. Clarke stopped him after one session. "Dr. Jones, you mentioned that the accident was a psychological trauma for James, is that correct?" She tapped her pen against her mouth contemplatively. "I'm no psychologist myself, but he does show signs even I can see. Is he seeing a therapist?"

Severus shook his head. "It was enough of a battle to get him to come here, and he could see a reason for that. He's become... withdrawn in recent years."

"Yes, I can see that." She looked over to where Harry was sitting in the waiting room, watching them intently. "Perhaps if _you_ could get him to open up..."

"I am no therapist either, Dr. Clarke."

"I know that, but until he can become comfortable in his own skin, there won't be much I can do for him. There are a number of good people that I can recommend, but you don't seem to think he'd go to them." She shook her head. "If he trusts you, then you'd probably be the best person for him to talk to."

Oh, irony of ironies. "I'll see what I can do, Dr. Clarke," Severus said, and to his surprise, he was sincere, "but I cannot say how much he actually trusts me."

She gave him a bit of an odd look, but she nodded. "Of course, thank you Dr. Jones." She raised her voice and waved to Harry. "I'll see you next week, James."

Harry stood to walk with Severus, but frowned as Severus handed him a flask. "W-what's this?"

"More Polyjuice potion." He kept extra on him when they went out, just in case they were out for longer than an hour. "Drink up. We won't be going straight back to Longbottom's today."

He continued to frown, but drank the potion with a grimace. "W-where are we g-going?"

"A pub, Potter." Severus walked out the door of Dr. Clarke's practice at a fast pace. Even with Thomas' longer legs, Harry still had to hurry to keep up. "You and I are going to have a drink."

"I d-don't understand-"

"Because _I _need a drink, and we can't go back to Longbottom's until Alcander gives us the okay." Now that they knew Longbottom was under suspicion as well, Alcander was layering more wards on the nursery. Soon, it would make Gringotts look like a child's piggy bank if this kept up.

"N-no one t-told me about it."

"No, and that's the point isn't it?" Severus knew of a good muggle pub down this way, small and quiet, where no one bothered anyone else, and they had a nice selection of bourbon. "Everyone falls all over themselves to keep poor Harry Potter from the truth because they don't know if he can handle it. Poor, delicate Potter mustn't be burdened should he? Oh, he'll just break in half if we do." Ah, there it was. Severus yanked the door opened and paused inside to give his eyes a moment to adjust to the gloom.

Harry flushed. "W-what the hell is your pr-problem?"

"Can you tell me truthfully that it isn't correct, Potter?" Severus signaled to the bartender and then guided Harry over to a small, secluded booth. "Can you tell me that your so-called friends don't tiptoe around you?"

The flush didn't leave Harry's cheeks. "I n-never asked them t-to."

"And did you ever ask them to stop?" The bartender brought over a bottle and two glasses, nodding to Severus familiarly. Severus poured them each a glass and pushed one in front of Harry, draining his own. "Of course you haven't. Maybe I was right about you in your first year. Maybe you do enjoy the special attention." He poured himself another glass.

Harry stared at him, aghast, ignoring the bourbon in front of him. "H-how can you s-say that when you kn-new-"

"And what exactly did I know, Potter?" This time Severus sipped from his glass. "Because I am starting to believe that maybe I dreamed it all. So why don't you tell me what it is that you think I should know?"

Harry's eyes were wide and shocked, but they were wrong, all wrong. They were Thomas' dull brown, not Harry's bright green. Severus closed his eyes, the inconsistency suddenly making him nauseous.

"I'm s-sorry," Harry said softly after a long moment. "I thought it w-would be easier if I j-just… faded away." Severus opened his eyes but he didn't look at Harry. He couldn't stand to watch Harry's voice come out of Thomas' mouth, not for this. He stared down at his drink instead.

"Did you think that I would prefer to think you were dead?" Severus asked, his voice raw. He played with the glass in his hands, swirling the reddish brown liquid. "I can understand you wanting to fade into anonymity, hell, I can even respect it, but how could you have thought this way would be easier on anyone but yourself?"

"I d-don't know," Harry admitted. "M-maybe I'm just a c-coward." He sipped from his own glass and made a face. "N-no one would l-look at me the s-same. They'd st-stare like I'm s-some sort of… freak. And m-maybe I am, but th-that's not what they w-want. If th-they had a ch-choice, they w-wouldn't really w-want to see me." Harry drank deeply of the glass, despite his earlier distaste. "They d-don't want to b-be reminded of the c-cost. I can s-serve them b-better as a… dead man."

"I see." Severus took the bottle and refilled both of their glasses. "So you just decided that it was your right to take that choice away from me."

"I d-didn't-"

"Of course you did." Severus sipped his drink. It really was good quality bourbon. "If you didn't want to see me Harry, you could have just said, but you decided that I was better off thinking you were dead since I of course would not want to see you."

"But you d-didn't. Dumbledore said-" Harry stopped suddenly, covering his mouth with his hand, looking horrified. "Oh. Oh Merlin."

Severus could feel his stomach drop at Harry's expression. "What did Albus say?" he asked, keeping his voice even with considerable effort.

"You w-weren't _there_." There was a desperate note in Harry's voice, and his eyes were pleading. "I… I asked f-for you, but he s-said that you… you didn't- you w-wouldn't-" He'd gone pale. "He s-said you d-didn't want to play n-nursemaid. That you had other things… m-more important things to d-do."

_Damn you, Albus!_ Severus gripped his glass so tightly that his knuckles were turning white. Albus hadn't let Severus into the room with Harry and the Healers. He'd let Severus believe Harry was dead. He'd never told Severus that Harry had asked for him. And Severus now knew the old bastard's reason for all of it- he'd needed his spy in the Death Eater's ranks. He hadn't wanted Severus to give that up to care for Harry. So he had taken Harry away. "Harry," Severus said slowly, forcing the words out through clenched teeth, "had I known, I swear to you that I would have been there."

Harry shook his head, a bit wildly. "I sh-should have known, but you n-never said- I kn-now I said it d-didn't matter b-but-" He was babbling.

"Shut up," Severus growled, grabbing Harry collar and dragging him in for a scorching kiss. He kept his eyes closed so he wouldn't have to see Thomas where Harry should be.

"Oh god," Harry whimpered against his mouth. "M-missed you. God, I m-missed you so much." He turned his head to try and deepen the kiss, but Severus pulled away. "Did I- did I do s-something wrong?"

"Not at all." Severus sat back in his booth and picked up his glass, his eyes dark. "I simply refuse to continue kissing Mr. Thomas."

Confusion flashed on Harry's face before understanding dawned on him and he grinned. "I s-suppose we should k-keep this bit from Dean, huh?"

"I do believe that would be the best course of action, yes."

"And w-when the potion wears off?" Harry was watching him with a little bit of trepidation. "What then?"

"Well, that is up to you." Severus no longer felt the need for the bourbon, but sipped it anyway. "Though I may have a few suggestions." They needed to talk further, Severus knew that, but his body was focused on the fact that it had been _ten years_. Besides, it was a conversation that Severus would prefer to have face to face with _Harry_, not with Harry wearing Thomas' face.

Harry shivered, and Severus doubted it was from the cold. "Then, w-would you like to come back t-to mine?"

"The very second that Alcander gives the okay."

* * *

><p>Severus woke from the best sleep he could remember having in years to the feeling of hair tickling his nose. He immediately moved to shove Nemo off of him when the source of the hair groaned and nestled further down his- very much unclothed- chest.<p>

Severus opened his eyes to see Harry's head resting on his chest, his left arm sprawled across Severus' stomach. So it hadn't just been a dream. Severus closed his eyes briefly and thanked whatever deity might listen for that. Harry had never had a habit of sleeping on his side before, but that must have changed. Angled the way he was, Severus could only see the unblemished left side of his body, and it was very easy to pretend that nothing had changed from ten years ago.

Harry stirred under his gaze, one green eye opening to look up at him. "Heard your heartbeat change," he murmured, so sleepy and relaxed that his stutter was barely noticeable. "Figured you were w-waking up."

"I thought you were sleeping."

"Dozing," Harry admitted. "I w-wanted to listen to your heartbeat, in c-case I didn't get another chance."

Severus sat up straight, dislodging Harry. "And what in Merlin's name made you think this would be a one-off?" Then something occurred to him. "Unless that's what you want it to be."

"No I- I didn't… I th-thought-"

"That I'd wake and run screaming from the room?" Severus asked dryly. "Tell me, Harry, what terrible transformation have you undergone during the night to make you think I'd have that sort of reaction?"

Harry flushed and turned his face away. "I j-just… if you m-made a m-mistake, that would be okay. You… you d-don't have to f-feel obliged to st-stay."

Obliged. Severus wondered if Harry realized that he was saying almost the exact same thing Severus had after the first time they kissed. "Harry, look at me." Severus grabbed him under the chin and turned his face so that they were looking directly at each other. "I knew exactly who I went to bed with last night. Why would that change now?"

"You w-were drinking."

"I had a few drinks. I was not in any way, shape, or form _drunk_. There is a difference." Severus released Harry's chin and sat back. "There's something you should have already known about me, but if you didn't, I will tell you now- I have not ever, nor do I ever intend to bed someone out of any sense of pity or guilt or, yes, obligation."

Harry looked down, his fingers picking at the bedclothes, that wretched hair falling over his face. "I thought about c-contacting you," he confessed, not looking at Severus, "s-so many times, but I d-didn't think you'd-" He shook his head, covering his face with his hands. "God, I'm sorry, I'm s-so s-sorry."

"Oh, you idiot boy." Severus leaned forward to capture Harry's lips with his own, and he could taste the salt of Harry's tears. Harry's mouth couldn't quite mold to fit his own any longer, not with that right corner that couldn't move with the rest, but that was something Severus was looking forward to getting used to. "When have I ever cared about your scars?"

Harry kissed him back, fiercely. "Stupid," he agreed between kisses, wrapping his arms around Severus' waist and pulling their bodies flush together. Severus gasped at the contact. "Never again. Don't ever l-leave me again."

"Never," Severus concurred, though at that moment, the thought of ever leaving that bed seemed preposterous, not when Harry rolled his hips just _so_…

Severus groaned, his head falling into the crook of Harry's neck as the movement brought their arousals together, creating delicious friction. _Much better than a morning wank,_ Severus thought, even as his mouth sought the junction between Harry's neck and shoulder, sucking and biting on the sensitive spot. He ran his hands down Harry's sides, feeling the soft skin and rough scar tissue under his fingers as Harry arched against him.

"God, Sev," Harry moaned, gripping the older man's hips tight as he rocked his own against them, his pace becoming more and more frantic. "S-so close."

"Hmm," Severus hummed low in his throat, the ability to form words currently beyond him. They'd neither of them last very long. Severus would have once tried to draw this out, make it long and leisurely, bringing Harry to the brink and back, but now wasn't the time for that. They'd have time for leisure later.

_Later_. For the first time, it truly struck Severus that there _would_ be a later. This wasn't one of those wonderfully terrible dreams that Severus hated to wake from. This wasn't some fantasy played out with a random stranger in a seedy motel room that always left Severus feeling hollow afterwards. This was _Harry_, real and warm and so very alive under his hands. And while he was scarred, damaged, and maybe a little bit different from the Harry he had been, they had all the time in the world to get reacquainted.

Severus choked, the world turning white as he came. Harry followed not long afterwards, hips jerking, the head of his cock sliding through the slickness left by Severus' ejaculate. And when Severus felt the hot liquid spurt against his stomach, he captured Harry's mouth once more, swallowing his cries.

Only after the kisses turned gentle and tender, only after their bodies cooled and the sweat dried, did Severus roll off of Harry and onto his back once more. Harry made a face at the drying mess between them and cast a wandless cleaning charm on the both of them before settling back down in the position that Severus had woken to, his head on Severus' chest, left arm draped over Severus' stomach. "So I can expect m-more of this?" Harry asked, his voice thick with fatigue.

"I certainly do not intend to give it up anytime soon."

Harry laughed, sending pleasant vibrations through Severus' chest.

Severus threaded a hand through Harry's hair. He really should get up and dressed. He had things that needed doing. There were potions he needed to brew for St. Mungo's. He'd wanted to double check on the wards around Malfoy Manor to make sure that Draco was safe, especially with his Weasley lover back in Romania. They still had yet to discover Brankshaft's game. But for just a moment, Severus decided that he could give in to the pleasant lethargy in his limbs and close his eyes. Just for one moment.

* * *

><p><strong>Word Count<strong>: 25,891

You two are insatiable little buggers. I wanted to keep my T rating, dammit, but no you wanted to have _sex_ and you weren't happy unless I wrote it. And what's with the fluff? Did you _not_ see the genre?

I may have actually blushed while writing this. It's not that I'm embarrassed about sex- quite the contrary. I can prattle on about sexual deviance, psychosexual disorders, genitalia, sex toys, etc. without a problem. I can discuss an orgasm with my physio psych prof without batting an eye. But writing _smut_- that's a whole different story.

Quick note about Harry's POV in this whole thing, in case it isn't clear: right after the accident, Harry asked for Severus. Dumbledore told him that Sev had better things to do. Harry assumed that meant that he'd _told_ Sev and Sev didn't want to come see him. Rightfully, he was hurt and didn't want to see Sev after Dumbledore died and he went to Draco, which is why he just let Sev believe he was dead. But _he never stopped loving Severus_. So when he found out that Dumbledore had lied to him, his world pretty much came crashing down around his ears, and all he knew was that he still loved Sev, and Sev still cared about him and they'd missed ten years because he'd been an idiot. That's why he fell right into bed with Sev. *grumbles*

Why did he believe Dumbledore? Because Severus never said the words _I love you_. Harry never thought he needed to hear it, so he'd never asked Sev if he did. But when Dumbledore said that Sev didn't want to play nursemaid, Harry believed he never said it because he didn't feel it. Poor baby, I've put you through hell, haven't I?


	10. I just don't want to miss you tonight

Yeah, I think it's safe to chalk up July NaNoWriMo as an official fail. Stupid job with your stupid paycheck. But not to worry, I'm doing August as well, so I figure I'll be a rebel and finish up _Only Fools Rush In_, as well as some side fics that I've been asked about and a crackfic that plot bunnies have been pestering me about. I was gonna write a novel, but that's what November's for, right?

Also, livejournal's being stupid, so I got a twitter. I prefer LJ, trying to say everything in 140 characters is daunting, but desperate times, eh? So if you have one, I'm truebluefool516 there as well. Follow me! (That always makes me think of Peter Pan: we're following the leader, the leader, the leader, we're following the leader wherever he may go.)

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><p>It seemed Severus' prediction that it was too early in the game for Brankshaft to start ranking up the bodies was very, very wrong. That morning's Daily Prophet was plastered with the headlines: "Former Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt, found dead in Knockturn Alley." A smaller subheading read, "Murdered or terrible accident? The Aurors have yet to say." The article went on to say that a Dark Mark had been painted on the wall of the alleyway, in what looked like Shacklebolt's blood.<p>

The tone was grim at Malfoy Manor that morning. Alcander had gone off to see what information he could get from his Auror contacts, but Severus knew, deep in his gut, that Shacklebolt had been murdered, that the crime scene had been carefully staged, and that Brankshaft would find a way to pin it on him. People were already starting to panic at the news of the Dark Mark. Brankshaft had his Death Eater panic, now he needed to put a face on it before people realized that there was no need to fear a return of the Death Eaters. Severus knew his would be perfect. And failing his, there was always the last remaining Malfoy. Severus spent the day walking the grounds, making sure that the ancient wards surrounding the Manor were intact and working, adding a layer of his own. Brankshaft could do what he wanted to Severus but not to his godson, dammit.

As Severus paced the grounds, he wondered how Harry was taking the news. Severus wanted to hold him, soothe his grief, talk him out of doing something fool-hardy as he would have had to with Harry's 17 year-old self, but this new Harry was a bit of an enigma. Harry would grieve for Shacklebolt, Severus knew that much, and possibly even blame himself for Shacklebolt's death, but would he even consider leaving the nursery? Would he think to attack Brankshaft to avenge Shacklebolt's death? Would he insist that they needed to tell people that Brankshaft was responsible, before they were able to get proof? That's what the old Harry would have done. But this new Harry...

A part of Severus was still mourning for that impetuous teenager he'd known, because this Harry was far, far too cautious. Yes, they'd made up. Sort of. There had been a lot of sex and very little in the way of talk. And while Severus had pretty much forgiven Harry for letting him believe Harry had been dead the last ten years, that didn't change the fact that Harry was still a recluse, hiding from the outside world. It wasn't healthy. Yes, Harry had visitors, but he never went out to visit his friends himself. Nor did he invite them. They always had to invite themselves. Severus wondered if he'd even visited the graves of those he'd lost during the war. He hadn't asked.

Although revealing himself would probably put Harry in danger, and that was something Severus had actively worked against his entire life, Severus wished he would offer. That's what the old Harry would have done, convinced that he held the key to keeping his friends safe from harm. Severus wondered if it had even crossed his mind.

They'd made up, but there was still a lot of healing that needed doing. And plenty to do before they could.

* * *

><p>The next time Severus went to the nursery, Harry just walked into his arms without a word, pressing his face against Severus' chest. "I gather you heard," Severus murmured, stroking Harry's hair.<p>

Harry nodded against his chest, which Severus felt rather than saw. "I c-can't believe it. Kingsley's..."

"I know." Severus pressed a kiss to the top of Harry's head. "I know. Hush."

They stayed like that for a few minutes, simply taking comfort in each other's presence for the friend that they had both lost, until Severus reluctantly pulled away. "I came here to tell you about Shacklebolt's memorial service tonight."

Harry shook his head. "Are you s-sure that's w-wise?"

"Possibly not, but I don't think even Thaddeus Brankshaft is cold enough to try something at a man's funeral."

"What if h-he is, though? What if this is... exactly w-what he w-wants?" There was a wild look in Harry's one good eye. "I don't w-want to l-lose you again."

"I assure you that I'll take the utmost care." Severus watched the brunet carefully. "And I'd like you to come as well."

"B-but what if he's... trying to d-draw me out?"

"It's a risk, yes, but as I said, we will proceed with the utmost caution." Severus reached out and brushed the hair from Harry's face. "We have minimized the risk as best we can. Shacklebolt was a good man, Harry, and an important part of the Order. You owe him this much."

Harry was silent, clearly thinking it over. Severus was silent as well. He'd said his piece and it was up to Harry now to make up his mind. Finally Harry said, "I d-don't like to be around a l-lot of people."

"I know. We can stick to the back, out of the way."

"And I'll b-be P-Polyjuiced as Dean. I w-won't be..." Harry gestured to the right side of his body, using his scarred right arm.

"No. Thomas has already agreed to spend the time here so you can feel free to go."

Harry reached out his hand to grasp Severus', squeezing hard. "And y-you'll be there?"

Severus squeezed back. "I won't leave your side unless you ask me to."

Harry took a deep breath. "Then I... I'll g-go."

Severus nodded, feeling slightly disappointed. Not about Harry agreeing to go; no, that was the answer he had hoped for, and he'd gotten it without too much of a fight. But Harry had needed to make sure that all the details were in place before he had agreed. The old Harry wouldn't have cared. He'd have gone and either assumed that they had some sort of plan in place to protect his identity or made up his own along the way.

But he'd agreed to go and that should be the important part. Healing the soul didn't happen over night after all.

* * *

><p>Harry stuck close to Severus when they arrived at the memorial service. As Severus had promised, they stuck to the edges of the crowd where they wouldn't get surrounded and could also make an easy get away if they needed to. Severus glared his best glare at anyone who even looked like they'd approach him and they were left relatively unmolested, save by a few former Order members that simply came by to say their hellos.<p>

Harry was clearly uncomfortable with the situation. He nearly jumped out of his skin when Minerva came up from behind him to greet Severus. She gave Harry an odd look. "Everything all right, Mr. Thomas?"

"A spell gone awry, I fear," Severus answered instead, capturing Minerva's attention away from Harry smoothly. "Mr. Thomas was experimenting with something quite outside of his skill level. Something of a... ah, _personal_ nature. Mr. Longbottom has asked me to keep an eye on his friend to make sure that there are no further complications."

"That's exceedingly kind of you, Severus," Minerva said with approval, though there was a slight flush to her cheeks. "I've heard from Pomona that you and Longbottom have become quite good friends. I cannot say that wasn't a bit of a shock. But quite the pleasant one."

"Friends may be pushing it, and good friends is certainly gross over-exaggeration, but I've found Longbottom to be acceptable company in recent years."

Minerva smiled and placed a comforting hand on Severus' shoulder. "It's very good to hear news like that, especially at such a sad time. You deserve a happy life, Severus. I'm glad to hear it's not a lonely one."

"Quite the opposite, Minerva, thank you."

When she'd gone, Harry asked quietly, "What sp-spell did she think Dean m-mucked up?"

"There are a number of sex spells that are quite easy for a beginner to cast incorrectly. The consequences of these tend to be very embarrassing- some even give the caster the overwhelming urge to mate with anything in sight."

Harry let out a small, slightly breathy laugh. "So... McGonagall thinks y-you're keeping Dean from j-jumping unsuspecting people."

"Quite. Perhaps another thing that we should endeavor to keep from Mr. Thomas. But it offers a plausible excuse for why we're here together and why we're sticking to the edge of the crowd."

"And why D-Dean keeps w-wanting to t-touch you," Harry added, curling his hand around Severus' elbow. There was nothing sexual in the touch, despite Harry's words.

Severus covered Harry's hand with his own. "Should Mr. Thomas require comforting of a physical nature, that would be over-looked due to the current circumstances, yes." But then Severus frowned. "Although he may not be pleased with the rumors that he's using sex spells to bed his former potions professor."

"I c-can't see why. H-he did have a s-sexy... professor."

Damn the rumors. Severus drew Harry close to his side. "Did he now? You'll have to tell me more about it later."

Severus could feel some of the tension in Harry's shoulders ease. Although the banter might seem inappropriate considering the setting, it was purely designed to distract Harry from the fact that he was out in a crowd for the first time in ten years. And not just any crowd, but a crowd of people he'd once known and respected. People he thought he'd let down.

The service started and no more was said between them. It was harder than Severus had thought to sit and listen and realize that Shacklebolt was _dead_. It was true that it had been difficult after the war, and Severus had made sure not to miss a single ceremony for those that had fallen (most of whom had been his students- he'd failed them all), but it wasn't supposed to be that way anymore. The war was over, the Dark Lord was dead, this was supposed to be a time of peace and prosperity, a golden era for the wizarding world. Brankshaft had felt the need to shatter that, simply for his own political gain. And it could have easily been him, or Draco, or Harry, or even Longbottom that they were currently mourning, but Shacklebolt had been in Brankshaft's way and had become the first victim. Severus swore to himself that he would avenge Shacklebolt's death. Severus had already served one Dark Lord; he'd be damned if he bowed to another one.

When the usurper took the podium to speak, Severus felt the overwhelming urge to strike him down rise hot in his stomach, and only Harry's cool touch kept him in his seat. _I won't lose anything else_, he promised quietly. _And certainly not to you._

By some sort of wordless agreement, Harry and Severus headed to the Floo as soon as the ceremony was over, wanting to be the first out. Severus could understand how Harry felt- the crush of people, the sound of them all together, the heat in the room, it was very nearly suffocating. But they weren't able to make it to the Floo before they were stopped.

"Severus! Oh, I'm so glad that you could make it," came the voice that was becoming nauseatingly familiar.

"Glad, Minister?" Severus asked with a raised eyebrow, turning to face the man he very dearly wished he could punch in the face. He discreetly pushed Harry towards the Floo, but Harry either didn't get the hint or simply decided to be stubborn and not leave Severus' side. Judging by the glare he was leveling at Brankshaft, it was the latter. _Subtlety, Potter_, Severus begged silently. _We need subtlety_. "I don't believe that is quite the apropos adjective."

Brankshaft schooled his features into something much more solemn. "No, of course not. Forgive me. Kingsley was a friend of your's. I'd forgotten." He offered an apologetic smile. "My condolences for your loss. What I meant to say is that I'm glad to see that you are well. Your residence has been empty for some time. I'd been worried about you."

So his house was still under surveillance. Severus had expected as much. "If you wanted to pop 'round for tea, Minister, it would be best to give me some warning so that I could be there when you came to call."

"Please, Severus. I've told you before- call me Thaddeus." He turned his impossibly blue eyes on Harry, and Severus felt the urge to raise his hackles. "And your friend? I don't believe we've been introduced." Brankshaft held his hand out to Harry with a winning smile. "Thaddeus Brankshaft."

Severus held his breath, but Harry simply pressed his hand against Brankshaft's. "Dean Thomas," he said simply, without a trace of stutter, but Severus could tell he said the words too slowly, forming them carefully in his mouth, and drawing the sibilants out much too long. "Kingsley w-was…" Harry covered his mouth and turned away, as if overcome by grief.

_Marvelous_. "If you'll excuse us, Minister, I promised Mr. Thomas here that I would get him home before he could make a spectacle of himself. I'm sure you understand."

"Of course, of course." Brankshaft nodded solicitously, stepping aside but placing a hand on Severus' shoulder. Had the man been this touchy at Hogwarts? Severus didn't have all that much to do with him back then, so he couldn't say. "I'll walk you to the Floo."

They weren't so easily rid of him, then. That was unfortunate. "Everything's been all right with you then, Severus? No sign of those," Brankshaft looked around them carefully, "new Death Eaters?"

"No, there's been nothing amiss," Severus said. "Aside from your Aurors stopping me in the street to search my person for Dark artifacts."

Harry gave him a startled little look, and Severus mentally kicked himself. They hadn't told Harry about that, yet. "Yes, I heard." Brankshaft shook his head. "Such nonsense. Purely to create vicious rumors, I'm sure. I do apologize. My Aurors must act on such anonymous tips."

Severus sincerely doubted the anonymity of the tip, but said nothing. The walk to the Floo was mercifully short and they had arrived. "Well if you'll excuse us Minister, we'll be taking our leave-"

"How many times must I tell you, Severus? It's Thaddeus. Oh, and Mr. Thomas, if you wouldn't mind going ahead, there's something I'd like to discuss with Severus here. Don't worry, I won't keep him but a moment," Brankshaft added with a wink in Harry's direction.

Harry cast an uncertain glance in Severus' direction, but Severus just nodded at him. The Polyjuice potion would wear off soon in any case. "I'll meet you at Draco's."

If Harry was confused at the sudden change of plans, he didn't show it. He simply brushed his fingers surreptitiously against Severus' arm before taking a large pinch of Floo powder. "Malfoy Manor," he managed to say clearly- again, much too slow- stepping into the fire. Severus watched him closely until he was completely gone from sight.

"You and Mr. Thomas are, ah… _good_ friends there, Severus?" Brankshaft asked with a knowing grin and a wink.

Severus dearly wished that it wasn't so very illegal for him to hex the man in front of him. "Friend would not be the term that I would use," he replied evenly, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "There was something that you wished to speak to me about?"

"Kingsley's death has put a number of things into perspective. If the former Minister of Magic wasn't safe Severus, how can I be sure that you will be?" Brankshaft asked with patently false concern, putting a hand on Severus' forearm and stepping in close, far, far too close. "I know that we were never exactly close, but that doesn't mean that I don't care what happens to you."

Severus took a step back, freeing his arm from Brankshaft's grasp. He'd have to scrub that arm later on. "I am sure that Shacklebolt was simply taken by surprise, Minister." He hadn't known Brankshaft, hadn't known what the man was capable. That was a mistake Severus would never make. "I can assure you that will not happen to me. Forewarned is forearmed, after all."

"Of course. But I want you to promise me that should you ever feel threatened, you'll come to me." Brankshaft was watching him with something unreadable in his eyes. "My doors will always be open to you."

"That's far too generous of you, Minister."

Brankshaft frowned and ran a hand through his auburn curls, but he didn't continue to insist that Severus call him by his given name. "My Aurors have been running into dead ends in their search for Harry Potter. You knew him, Severus. Tell me, why would he keep hiding like this?"

"I think that it's far more likely that the boy died ten years ago."

Brankshaft gave him an exasperated look, and something about it made Severus think it was the first real emotion he'd seen on the man's face. "Yes, you said. Hypothetically, then. Why would Harry Potter hide from the public?"

"He never relished his fame. Perhaps he wished for a quiet, private life." A quiet, private life that Brankshaft was doing his best to disrupt.

"Seems rather selfish, doesn't it?" Brankshaft sighed. "Well, I'll not keep you any longer. Your Mr. Thomas will become worried. Once again, my condolences for your loss." Severus couldn't help but wonder what Thomas' reaction would be to the news that the Minister of Magic thought they were together.

"And for your's, Minister." Severus stepped into the Floo before Brankshaft could ask what he'd meant. Moments later, he stepped out into the sitting room at Malfoy Manor, to find Draco and Harry waiting anxiously for him. Harry was looking like himself again which meant they'd cut it close with the Polyjuice potion. Far too close.

"What happened?" Draco demanded immediately, not even giving Severus time to brush the soot from his robes. "Harry said that Brankshaft practically cornered you and wanted to speak alone and that you told Harry to come here instead of Neville's."

"Succinctly put, that is exactly what happened."

Harry was being very quiet, watching Severus closely, worry evident in his one good eye.

"I _know_ that's what happened, Severus," Draco huffed. "I meant, what happened after Harry left. What did Brankshaft want from you?"

"I am fine," Severus said quietly, making sure to meet Harry's gaze directly.

"Yes, I can _see_ that, but…" Draco trailed off, looking between Harry and Severus. "Oh. And _when_ were you two going to tell me about this?" He crossed his arms in front of his chest and raised an eyebrow. Severus really should stop spending so much time at the Manor; Draco was slowly picking up all of his mannerisms. "How long?"

"Less than a week, Draco. Worry not; you've not been out of the loop long."

Draco rolled his eyes at Severus' sarcasm. "You two do realize that there's no reason to keep it a secret, right? This isn't Hogwarts. You're both consenting adults. And there are some- namely, myself- that might have been greatly relieved to hear you two were back together!"

"Draco…" Severus began warningly.

"Fine." Draco threw up his hands. "Time and a place, I know. But we _will_ talk about this in the morning." Draco shot them a sly look. "I'm assuming that I won't have to ask the house elves to set up a separate room for Harry, then? You'll take care of his bedding arrangements, won't you Severus?"

This time it was Harry that groaned out, "Draco…"

Draco waved behind him as he walked out of the room. "Have a good night. Try to make breakfast, all right?"

"You n-never told me ab-bout the Aurors," Harry said softly when Draco had gone.

"It didn't seem necessary at the time," Severus said truthfully. "Longbottom was worried about how you'd react, especially since you've just started getting out. He thought it would be best not to jeopardize that."

Harry was silent for a moment. "I've b-been a b-bit of a prick, haven't I?"

"Yes," Severus answered succinctly. "But some would say that you've more than earned the right."

"N-not you though."

"When have I ever let you get away with something simply because you're Harry-bloody-Potter?"

"Never." Harry stepped in close, wrapping his arms around Severus' waist. "I d-don't like the idea of those… Aurors with their h-hands all over you."

"It was only the one that had his hands on me, and he was a consummate professional, I assure you. I was much more uncomfortable with Brankshaft's touch." Severus' shoulders twitched at the memory. "I feel like I should bathe just to be sure that none of his oil was left on me."

"I c-could help," Harry suggested innocently. "M-make sure your back gets washed properly."

"That," Severus' voice was low and husky, "sounds like an excellent suggestion."

* * *

><p><strong>Word Count<strong>: 29,399

I don't know why all my villains insist on flirting with Severus, really I don't. I mean, I know he's sexy and all, but come on guys, it's just creepy.

I made pecan pie cupcakes today before I even realized it was Harry's birthday. Kismet? I think so.


	11. One not simply, so absurd

*Phew* Got hit with a case of writer's block, so I went on hiatus _on purpose_, and it was like the very moment I decided to do that, inspiration hit. This chapter has a little bit more darkness in it, so be warned. I'm also changing the genre from Angst/Hurt/Comfort to Drama/Hurt/Comfort, because it's actually not as angsty as I originally intended. Of course, I didn't originally intend on nefarious Ministry plots either. Go figure.

If you haven't already, check out my new side-story about Anastasia King. It's something a lot of people have asked me for.

* * *

><p>Their love-making (although Severus had once despised the term, he now found it decidedly apt) that night was slow and gentle, an affirmation of life. It was to be expected after the loss of someone so close to the both of them. Severus felt the need to touch Harry everywhere, to learn the new planes and valleys caused by his scars. Harry originally seemed uncomfortable with the attention that Severus paid them, but then his own hands had found the scars on Severus' back from when he'd been found out by the Death Eaters after Voldemort's fall. He endured the regard after that without protest.<p>

They still had so much they needed to learn about each other, but there was still plenty that they already knew. Harry was still particularly sensitive at that one spot, just below his ear. He also still preferred to have sex face-to-face, which seemed a bit unusual considering how self-conscious he was about his scars, and he still liked lots of kissing. He was not as limber as he had once been, that was true, but then again, neither was Severus.

The scars also clearly bothered him. There were a few times when Harry moved a certain way that Severus caught a flash of pain in his face. He made a mental note to brew a topical pain relief potion that was known to work well on old wounds.

One major difference was that Harry now preferred to lie on his right side when they were in bed together, although Severus would have thought it would be uncomfortable for him to be putting that much pressure on his wounded side.

"Do you think it's m-my fault that Kingsley's dead?" Harry asked as they lay together, drawing absent patterns on Severus' chest. His stutter tended to be the best just after they'd bedded each other. If Severus had to guess, he would say it was because Harry was so relaxed and languid. He couldn't help but feel an inkling of pride at the thought; he was, after all, just a man.

"Truthfully? It's impossible to say for certain if Brankshaft would have still killed Shacklebolt if you had let the world know you were still living." Severus could see that the words hurt Harry. "But you cannot blame yourself for the actions of another."

"He's g-going to go after you now, isn't he?" Harry frowned. "Maybe if I d-did step forward…"

"Brankshaft will still be after me," Severus interrupted gently. "He's gone too far to abandon whatever game he's playing now. He'd just adjust his plans to include you in them. And trust me when I say that those plans will just put you in danger."

"I j-just got you back. I d-don't want to lose you again."

They were silent for a long while after that, Severus running his hand through that infernally long hair (he wondered briefly if he could convince Harry to cut it. While he knew that Harry liked it to cover his face, Harry let no one see his face but those that already knew about the scars). Severus thought Harry might have fallen asleep, but there was a question he had to ask, and he knew if he didn't do it now, that he might never. "Harry?" he asked quietly, his fingers running down the younger man's bare back, to the left of his spine.

"Hmm," Harry hummed, his eyes closed. "Feels nice."

It certainly did. Harry's skin was so soft and smooth under his fingers. But if he moved them just to the right, he could feel the hardened ridges of the scar tissue, a souvenir of that terrible night, of those horrible wounds, of all that blood, of all those screams, and of the certainty that he had lost Harry forever. Severus closed his eyes, forcing that memory to the back of his mind. It would not help him at the moment, and it was not a moment he enjoyed reliving, especially now with Harry warm and alive under his hands. "All these years, Harry," Severus murmured. His voice was quiet, but he knew that Harry could hear him clearly in the silence of the room. "All these years, did you think of me?"

Harry's eyes stayed closed, but Severus could feel his body tense. "All the t-time," Harry admitted. "Part of me w-wanted to… Every s-single day I thought about t-telling you. But if it w-was true… I c-couldn't handle that. Not from you, too."

Severus could feel himself stiffen at Harry's phrasing. "Who? Who turned you away?" Severus couldn't imagine who it might have been. It was _Harry Potter_, broken and scarred maybe, but still the man who had sacrificed his childhood and more to save them all. And to have someone that Harry trusted enough to go to still be able to do that… it was very nearly inconceivable.

"He d-didn't turn me away," Harry amended, so softly that Severus had to strain to hear him. "Dumbledore had made… R-Ron," Severus didn't think that it was Harry's stutter that caused him to stumble over the name, "his back-up, in case… well." Harry shrugged uncomfortably. They'd all known intellectually that Albus was only human, mortal like the rest of them, but it had never actually occurred to any of them that he might die. Any of them, it seemed, but Albus himself. "He s-saw, from the very beginning. He didn't… didn't say anything, but I c-could see it in his eyes." Harry buried his face briefly in Severus' chest as though to hide himself from the memory. "When Dumbledore… died, I t-told him that he still had work to d-do for the Order and that I'd be f-fine with Draco. He still th-thought we were dating, anyway." Harry's mouth twisted into a little grimace that could have been an attempt at a smile. "I th-think he was relieved."

Severus closed his own eyes. While it was true that there was no love lost between him and the youngest Weasley boy, he had to admit that Weasley had been an asset in those last days, an unstoppable, unshakable force for their side. Severus had always known he'd put so much of himself into the fight because of guilt. He'd always just assumed that the guilt was for the fact that he'd never made amends with Harry before his (presumed) death. He now knew it was for something quite different.

"It was b-bad enough to see that l-look in Ron's eyes," Harry continued, still so quiet that Severus almost felt, rather than heard the words. "I c-couldn't bear to s-see it in your's."

"And did you?" Severus asked, almost in spite of himself. He knew that he'd stared that first time. He wondered with an almost morbid curiosity what Harry had seen when he stared.

"No. Amazement, like you c-couldn't believe what you were seeing. P-pain. But no disgust. No pity." A gentle finger stroked Severus' still-closed eyelids. "No f-fear."

Severus reached up to catch Harry's hand, opening his eyes. "And what reason could I possibly have to fear you?" he drawled. "Brat." He drew Harry's hand to his mouth and curled his tongue around Harry's index finger. Harry's breath hitched in his throat. "After all, I've always known how to turn you into putty in my hands," he added, before sucking the finger into his mouth.

Harry's good eye darkened with lust as he watched Severus' mouth intently. "Yes," he agreed, a little too quickly. "Putty. Absolutely."

The look on Harry's face sent a thrill down Severus' spine. His Harry was still in there somewhere, foolhardy and optimistic and willing to sacrifice his own comfort for that of his friends. Older, wiser, and rather gun-shy (and wasn't that so very apt?), yes, but still somewhere deep down in this broken recluse of a man. With time, Severus knew he could draw him back out. It may not be the happily ever after that fairy tales were always raving about, but it sure as hell felt close enough.

Severus released Harry's finger from his mouth with an audible _pop_, but before he could do anything else, a warm, furry weight settled onto his lap. "M'rrow?" Nemo said mournfully, looking up at Severus with his large, misshapen, yellow eyes.

Severus stared back. "What in the blazes are you doing, you brain-damaged feline?" he asked with exasperation. "You are not welcome at the moment." Nemo just continued to meow piteously.

Harry snickered. "Maybe he's h-hungry," he suggested.

"I don't particularly care if he's hungry," Severus all but growled. "He's not going to die of hunger should he have to wait an hour."

"An hour?" Harry raised his eyebrows and pressed his lips together, clearly suppressing a smile. "Your… expectations are a little h-high aren't they? Especially for the s-second go 'round."

Severus skimmed Harry's side with his fingertips, barely touching the skin. Harry shivered under his touch. "That was a conservative estimate, you little demon. You know very well that I could draw it out for hours should I so wish."

"Promises, promises."

"Cheeky brat." Severus' voice was low and husky. "Do you require a demonstration?"

Harry leaned forward, so close that his lips brushed Severus' own as he spoke. "Maybe I do."

Nemo, however, didn't seem too pleased with the fact that he had been forgotten and swiped at Severus with his claws extended. Severus jumped and cursed, knocking Nemo off of the bed. Harry covered his mouth, clearly holding back laughter. His eye was sparkling with mirth. "I think the mood's been s-sufficiently killed," Harry said from behind his hand, voice thick with suppressed laughter. "Go, take c-care of your c-cat. We'll not get a m-moment's peace until you do."

Severus stepped out of the bed with extreme reluctance. "He always chooses the worst times," Severus grumbled, reaching for his dressing gown.

Harry was watching him with an appreciative look. "Welcome to the w-wonderful world of p-pet ownership," he said with a smile. "Go. I'll be right here, w-waiting for you to get back." He reclined back on the pillows and his voice held so much promise that Severus had barely tied his sash before he was out the door.

* * *

><p>They were sitting to breakfast when the owl came to call. Draco was in the midst of an off-color comment that Severus and Harry were in the midst of ignoring. "… and I hope that you two had the good sense to employ cleaning charms," Draco continued, waving his porridge spoon for emphasis. "I'd hate for the house elves to be traumatized by the evidence of your little…" He trailed off as the bird landed on the table, nearly upsetting Draco's bowl.<p>

"Hedwig?" Harry asked, startled, blinking at the animal. "What's-"

The bird snapped her beak sharply and deliberately three times. Draco's spoon fell out of his hand and clattered against his bowl as he and Harry both paled.

"What?" Severus demanded, looking between the two of them. "What's happened? What does that mean?"

Harry held his injured arm out to the bird, and she clambered on, making small distressed noises. Harry drew her close, stroking her feathers, though whether it was to soothe her or himself, Severus couldn't say. "It's a warning system we created eight years ago," Draco explained, his face so pale that his lips looked bloodless, "when Harry first came to stay with Neville. If something happened, Hedwig would come to find me. Neville's in trouble."

"B-but he's okay," Harry said quietly, almost speaking to himself. "Three c-c-clicks. He's g-gonna be okay."

"Two clicks means something suspicious," Draco clarified. "Three means something serious but not life-threatening. Four means an attack. Five…" Draco trailed off, and Severus found he didn't need to know what they thought they'd need five clicks for.

"He's okay," Harry continued to murmur softly as he stroked his pet. "He's okay."

Severus squeezed Harry's knee under the table. "I think we can safely assume that this has something to do with Brankshaft. They've already searched Longbottom's property and brought him in for questioning, so this has likely gone through official channels. Longbottom will be safe for now."

Harry nodded, but he didn't look reassured. Draco swallowed hard. "We'll need to confirm," he said slowly, and Severus could tell that he was struggling to maintain his composure. "Do you think Alcander would be able to get that information?"

"I'll call him now." Severus released his grip on Harry's knee, but before he could move his hand, Harry caught it and squeezed it so hard that it was almost painful. His face was blank, closed off. Severus felt his heart twist at the sight. "We'll not let anything happen to him, Harry. I swear it." He pressed a hard kiss against the brunet's forehead. "I swear it."

The grip on his wrist slackened enough for Severus to pull away and head to the sitting room.

Severus wasn't sure how long he was speaking with Alcander. But he knew as he pulled his head out of the fire that it had been much too long. His knees and back ached from the crouched position, and his arms were nearly trembling from holding him up so long. It was truly the most bloody uncomfortable method of communication, and Severus was much too old to be utilizing it. That was one thing that Muggles had gotten right: telephones. He should suggest to Draco that they install one in the Manor, if only to see if he could drive a healthy 28 year old into cardiac arrest.

Severus managed to push himself upright, listening to his joints creak with a wince. It was only then that he saw Harry standing in the corner of the room. The weak sunlight from the overcast morning and light from the fire were all that illuminated the room, and the light barely reached Harry's corner, leaving him drenched in flickering shadow. His hair was down around his face, but Severus could just make out the glitter of an eye. "Harry?" Severus asked tentatively, his voice unsure.

"He keeps threatening the people I love, Severus." Harry's voice was cool, even, and full of steel. "He's hurting the people that I care about, disturbing the peace that so many people gave their lives for." He took a step forward. The shadows created by the ridges and dips of his scars made his face look like some sort of gruesome Halloween mask in the ruddy firelight. "I can't let him hurt anyone else. I won't."

This wasn't the bright, optimistic Harry Potter of his school years, nor was it the broken recluse that Severus was just beginning to get to know. It wasn't even the Harry that he might become once Severus had helped him to heal. This was the Harry that Severus had tried his damnedest to keep him from becoming. This was Harry the Chosen One, Harry the soldier, Harry the weapon that Dumbledore had molded. This was the man who walked up to the most powerful Dark wizard in history without fear and made the kill shot without hesitation even with the knowledge that his own life was likely forfeit. This was the man that had willingly sacrificed half his body to bring down his enemy. This was the Harry that inspired fear.

"We'll stop him, Harry." Severus held his arms out to the younger man, half afraid of what it would mean if Harry refused the gesture. "I promise."

He needn't have worried. "We had better," Harry said as he stepped into Severus' arms and pressed a chaste kiss against his lips. "Or I'll kill him."

It was said so simply, just a statement of fact, but it left Severus reeling. By the time he had gathered his wits about him, Harry had gone. And it wasn't until that moment that Severus realized that Harry had spoken without a trace of a stutter.

_Did you know Albus? Did you know what you had turned that boy into? Is that why you kept him locked away, hidden from the rest of the world?_ Severus drew his arms tightly around his middle, though he wasn't cold. _Did you fear your creation?_ Severus knew enough of the old man to know that he had. Albus Dumbledore had created the perfect weapon for defeating the Dark Lord, but he could have very well created Voldemort's successor in the process.

But that was wrong. Severus would never allow Harry to become that. He'd die himself before he let Harry become the next Dark Lord. _Did you know that too, Albus? Was that why you never interfered?_ Albus had always maintained that what separated Harry from Voldemort was Harry's ability to love. It would be very like him to allow their affair for that very reason.

Severus turned and brought his fist down hard on the mantle. _Barmy old codger, will you never allow me to hate your memory in peace?_

Dumbledore would remain as enigmatic in death as he had been in life, and that would never change no matter how long Severus agonized over it. For now, he had a godson who was most likely in danger, a friend (yes, Severus could admit it, if only in the privacy of his own mind) in the clutches of a murderer, and a lover with a rather unhealthy coping technique of contemplating murder. This is what happens when one starts to find their safe, comfortable routine monotonous; Severus could kick himself for ever thinking that traitorous thought.

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><p><strong>Word Count:<strong> 32,321

I'm not doing August NaNo anymore, in case anyone cared. I was already feeling the burnout from July. So wave bye-bye to the bi-weekly updates.


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